


I'll follow you into the dark

by sseagully



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrinette, Aged-Up Character(s), Akumatized Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Amnesia, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Guardian Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Guardian Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Hot Mess Adrien Agreste, Hot Mess Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Identity Reveal, Lila being Lila, Marinette Dupain-Cheng Is Princess Justice, Memory Loss, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Post-Episode: s03 Miracle Queen (The Battle of the Miraculous Part 2), Slow Burn, Tags May Change, dealing with the aftermath, give these kids a break 2020
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:27:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24016687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sseagully/pseuds/sseagully
Summary: Post Season 3: Miracle Queen-When Marinette is pushed past her breaking point, she has a tougher time than most in dealing with the aftermath. Adrien chooses to stay by her side to help her, first as a friend and now slowly growing into something more.Considering the circumstances, everything seems to be going pretty well - except for this nagging question Marinette can't seem to get out of her head:Who exactly is this Ladybug heroine that everyone keeps talking about and where has she gone?
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe
Comments: 155
Kudos: 261





	1. moving on

**Author's Note:**

> My first serious attempt at writing fanfiction in years - it's both exciting and terrifying. This story could be alternatively titled the following:
> 
> "when it rains it pours"  
> or  
> "oh no these poor kids"
> 
> Still, I promise I'm not taking this down an unredeemable path. These kids will end up happy in this fic, so help me Ladybug.
> 
> Two quick notes:  
> 1) Characters are all aged up to 16 in this story.  
> 2) Lila is a decent part of this story, but I would hesitate to call this an outright salt story. So if that's what you're looking for, just be warned.

“Ohmigosh, I’m sorry I’m late!”

“Girl, I cannot believe you slept the entire two hour lunch break,” Alya said with a laugh as Marinette dashed up the school stairs in a panic.

“Better during lunch break than in Mme. Mendeleiev’s lab this morning,” Marinette huffed, cheeks pink. She grabbed Alya by the arm and started power-walking them into the building right as the warning bell rang. “I just - I stayed up almost all night working on this new jacket idea based off of Jagged’s new single, _Wailin’ Banshee_. You know how I get. I basically blinked and it was sunrise!”

To be fair, Tikki had tried to get her to bed around 1 AM but Marinette _may_ have bribed her with cookies until the kwami had passed out on her desk in a sugar coma.

“Only you, Marinette,” Alya said, shaking her head fondly.

They jogged across the basketball court and up the courtyard steps in a hurry, Marinette barely avoiding a face plant on the stairs. Thank the lucky stars for Alya grabbing her by the backpack just in time. Their teacher gave them a stern but amused look as they slipped into the classroom, clearly the last ones to return. When they sheepishly took their seats, Mme. Bustier clapped her hands together lightly and called the students to order.

“Next on our lesson plan for today is the announcement of our mid-year group project.” Caline tried not to laugh as a fair number of hands immediately rose into the air. “Before I take any questions, let me see if I can read your minds for a second here - no, you do not get to pick your partner; no, you cannot trade the partner I give you; no, I will not make any exceptions; and most importantly, this project is going to be 25% of your grade for the year, so yes, I would definitely take it seriously.”

Caline smiled serenely at her students and their now faltering hands. “Did I miss anything?”

A beat of silence. Then, “ _Duuude_ ,” followed by Adrien’s snickering.

“Mme. Bustier, while I understand why the rest of the class needs your guidance for something like this, my father and I really think it’d be best if _I_ got to handpick my -“ Chloé began with her usual smirk and ponytail flick.

Caline cut her off gently but firmly. “While I appreciate your input, Chloé, I assigned the partnerships for this particular assignment weeks ago. I will not be changing them. If your father truly has an issue with this, then please let him know that this is a standard I am applying across the board and therefore, I am not willing to budge on the matter.”

Chloé’s jaw dropped open then snapped shut with a growl. Next to her, Sabrina shrank into her seat from the force of Chloé’s glower, her expression showing a mix of both disappointment and relief.

“This is going to be a research assignment, with each pair choosing their own topic - per teacher approval. You have six weeks to gather resources and co-author a five page written report. The week following your paper submission, each pair will have to complete a 25 minute presentation on their topic to the class.” Caline began to hand out the project rubric sheet to each student. “I’m giving you the assignment reference sheet; the top of the paper has the name of you and your partner listed, along with your presentation date. I would advise you all to start collaborating immediately, as this is not a project I would recommend leaving to the last minute.”

 _AlyaAlyaAlyaAlya_ , Marinette’s brain chanted like a lucky mantra as she was handed her sheet. _AlyaAlyaAlya!_ _Or - perhaps - dare she even hope - Adri-?_

Marinette winced and cut that thought off immediately. _Nope, nope, don’t go there! Bad brain. BAD._

It wasn’t anything against Adrien personally, but for possibly the first time ever, Marinette really hoped they wouldn’t have to work together. First and foremost, she needed to be able to focus to get a good grade on a project of this magnitude, and lord knew that she wouldn’t be able to do much of that with Adrien around. And secondly (and much more importantly), Marinette had recently decided to - well, not avoid Adrien, per se, it was more like giving herself some distance where he was concerned. A bit of breathing room for her to heal and hopefully move her attention to something healthier and more productive.

 **is it because of kagami?** Alya had asked sympathetically over text. Marinette couldn’t lie and say that wasn’t a factor. But to say Kagami was the only reason, or even the main reason, wasn’t the full truth either.

**its complicated, alya**

**bc nino says aa wont confirm theyre dating even when asked** , Alya then followed up. Marinette hadn’t responded to that one, because it made a queasy feeling of hope rise from the depths of her heart, despite her best efforts to squash it.

The true turning point for Marinette had actually been her breakdown in front of Luka a few weeks back. It was like hitting rock bottom and then having that bottom fall out from under you next. In those few minutes, under Luka’s steady, concerned gaze and wrapped in his gentle embrace, there was no escape from all the difficult thoughts and feelings she had been suppressing for months. It was terrifying yet liberating, having another person bear witness to a moment that intensely vulnerable.

Later that day, after the battle with Hawkmoth and Chloé finished, Marinette had dragged herself back home, collapsing onto her balcony lounger like a puppet with its strings cut. Tikki had reappeared with a flash and, in a keen show of intuition, snuggled into the crook of Marinette’s neck in simple, wordless comfort.

As Marinette had stared up at the warm gradient of a sunset sky, mind calm but empty, she finally let herself examine her life and its problems - feeling truly objective for what felt like the first time in a long time.

The first was probably the most obvious, as the responsibility of the Ladybug mantle was a sizable burden and one not easily shared. And of course, the emotional tug-of-war between her shock at Master Fu’s sudden departure and her anxiety from becoming the new Guardian before she was ready just made everything seem ten times worse. She forced herself to consider the recent loss of her trusted allies, all but one gone in a single fell swoop, along with the weariness she carried from having her fears about Chloé’s readiness to be a hero come to fruition in the worst way possible.

And then, the dark and ugly piece that she had tried to hide, even from herself: the loneliness and guilt she felt as she began to notice the subtle ways in which Chat Noir was pulling away from her. Her longstanding hope that he would take her rejection seriously was now going head-to-head with a selfish desire to keep his affection and attention on her. It was almost as if she was a plant, trying to seek out the warmth of a light that was slowly moving on. She just wanted this one thing to remain consistent, this one thing to stay the same as all the rest fell to pieces - but she knew, _she knew_ , that it wouldn’t be right for her to ask that of him when it would be clearly to his detriment.

By the time the sun had fully set and the night sky had taken over, her brain had run through quite the laundry list. But even after identifying her many Ladybug woes, a hard knot of tension still remained lodged beneath her sternum. It was only in a moment of hard and total honesty with herself that Marinette finally admitted that one of the biggest drains in her life wasn’t Miraculous-related at all.

It was Adrien.

Somewhere along the way, her fun and lighthearted love for Adrien had flipped on her and turned into something heavy and painful. Nowadays, seeing his handsome face still made her stomach flutter and her heart beat fast but in a way that felt closer to dread than the giddiness of times past. She didn’t dream beautiful dreams about their future anymore; instead, the weight of her unspoken feelings followed her relentlessly, even in sleep, and replaced those beautiful dreams with vivid nightmares of rejection.

But now more than ever, with Master Fu gone and Hawkmoth reaching a new level of strength that she felt unprepared to meet, Marinette understood this was not the time to be debilitated by heartbreak, like any other normal school girl.

She needed to get stronger. She needed to put her everything into being the best Ladybug that Paris could ask for. She needed to make sure that the carelessness that cost her Master Fu wouldn’t also someday cost her Chat Noir.

And most importantly, she needed to find a way to be happy. That meant leaving behind her old, weak self whose crippling doubt and lack of conviction meant she'd had to settle for too little, too late. That meant leaving behind her feelings for Adrien - no matter how much it hurt to do so.

 _Distance_ , she reminded herself. _Distance and patience. I’ll be okay. It’ll all be -_

“-okay? Hey Mari?” Alya placed a hand on her arm, snapping her out of her thoughts. “Are you okay? You totally zoned.”

Her eyes were a bit hazy, she just now noticed, and she blinked rapidly to clear them. Luckily, the tears receded without falling and she was able to paste a smile on her face to reassure her worried best friend. “Just tired,” she mouthed back, which wasn’t even really a lie.

Mme. Bustier finished distributing her hand outs and said, “Make sure to read over the rubric carefully for the requirements and point distribution. And please feel free to reach out to me if you require guidance on your topic or if you have any questions.” She walked back to her desk and the chalkboard behind it. “Now, shall we move on to our history lesson?”

“So who did you get?” Alya whispered with a nudge of her elbow. “Not Chloé, I hope?”

Marinette shook her head and tried to dispel her morose mood. She dutifully kept her eyes down and on her paper, so as not to spare a glance for the model-perfect blonde head of hair in front of her. Her eyes zeroed in on the names at the top. Marinette and -

“Oh,” she said simply, feeling a bit relieved. Not Chloé, not Lila, and not Adrien. “I got Ivan,” she whispered back to Alya. “What about you? Lucky enough to get Nino?”

“Nah, I wish. I’m with Sabrina. Pretty sure Bustier is trying to keep couples and besties apart for this assignment.” Alya shrugged. “I’ve barely ever talked to Chloé’s shadow one-on-one before, so this should be pretty interesting.” She glanced discreetly at her phone under the desk. “Nino texted, he got Mylène.”

Humming absently, Marinette scanned the rest of the project details: a minimum of eight sources, acceptable mediums including academic publications, educational documentaries, in-person interviews - a proper bibliography required. And that wasn’t even touching the requirements for the class presentation piece. This was not going to be a quick or easy project by any means, and Marinette knew she would have to revise her personal schedule in order to make the time for it all.

She sighed mournfully. Apparently, the wicked Jagged Stone jacket she designed in last night’s frenzy would have to take the backseat for now. She idly sketched a miniature version of her design on the side of her rubric sheet to help pass time along as Mme. Bustier lectured. When class finally ended, eons later, she had not just the jacket in the margins, but also a doodle person modeling it.

The swoop of the doodle’s bangs were a bit too familiar for her liking, so she erased them in a rush and left the model’s head bald. There, much better.

“Alright, girlie, I’m headed over to talk to Miss Henchwoman. If she tries to suggest any topic related to Chloé or the Bourgeois family, I may just lose it, so wish me luck,” Alya said with a roll of her eyes. Slinging her messenger bag over her shoulder, she ducked in to press a quick friendly kiss to Marinette’s forehead with a loud _mwah_. “And for the love of Ladybug, PLEASE get some actual sleep tonight! Your dark circles are worse than Juleka’s and I’m pretty sure she does hers with makeup.”

Laughing, Marinette swatted at her until she left.

“Hey, Marinette,” Ivan said, walking up to her desk. He awkwardly scuffed his worn trainers against the floor. “Got a few minutes before heading home to, y’know, talk about the project?”

“Yeah, of course!”

 _This might actually be a good opportunity to get closer to Ivan_ , Marinette thought to herself as she quickly gathered her tablet and papers, _We’ve been friends for a while now but we don’t spend much time together, even though he’s dating Mylène. Though I do wonder how we’re going to decide on a topic. We have pretty different tastes in… well, almost everything. Hm…_

Marinette dismissed her idle concerns and smiled up at Ivan, pleased when the gentle giant returned the gesture. She was sure they would figure something out. As they exited the classroom and moved down into the courtyard, the afternoon sunlight hit something on Ivan’s bag, catching Marinette’s eye. It was his Kitty Section pin, she realized, made by Marinette herself. A special exclusive piece of merchandise for band members only.

“Oh!” Marinette said as inspiration struck. There actually _was_ something they shared in common beyond Mylène, one other area of overlap. “Ivan, why don’t we do something based off the music industry? Maybe we could take some of your favorite bands and research how their styles - like their stage costumes and their aesthetics - match with their music. We could probably combine both of our interests that way.”

Eyes widening, Ivan perked up from his usual slouched demeanor. “That - that sounds pretty cool. There are tons of crazy bands out there, so we’ll probably have a lot of material to work with. But are you sure you don’t mind me picking who we look at?”

“I think your taste in music will lead to more interesting subjects to study,” Marinette admitted honestly, “so I’m totally fine with it.”

He pumped a fist into the air. “Sick! Thanks, Marinette. I’ll look at my playlists tonight and try to narrow down to the top ten. We can figure out how many to focus on once I get an initial list.”

"Can't wait," she replied with a grin. One problem already solved. Maybe things weren’t all that bad after all.

* * *

Out by the school’s front entrance, Adrien clapped a hand on Nino’s shoulder and steadfastly ignored the Gorilla’s car idling in the street. “Too bad we aren’t partners for this project, man. It would have been a great excuse to invite you over to my house. Even my dad wouldn’t have been able to say no since this is such a big piece of our grade.”

Nino sighed sadly. “Just wasn’t meant to be, dude. But it’s okay. I’ve already accepted that our love was doomed from the start to be a bromantic tragedy.”

“We’re basically Bro-meo and Dude-liet,” Adrien added with a truly horrible eyebrow waggle. They both burst out laughing.

“That was so bad it was actually good,” Nino said with a snort.

“Ah, you’ve uncovered my true joke aesthetic,” said Adrien, a little too honestly.

“Maybe you should cover it back up then.”

“Meow-ch!”

Alya popped up from behind Nino’s shoulder, a smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth. “Did I just hear you _pun_ , Agreste?”

Groaning, Nino propped an arm around his girlfriend’s shoulder and swung an accusing finger in Adrien’s direction. “ _Thank you_ , finally someone else heard him do it! This is the secret torture I’ve been living with all year. Dude keeps it super well hidden, but underneath all that model glamour, he's got the heart of the biggest dweeb in France.”

Adrien grasped his chest and cried, “Torture? What slander is this?! I’m meow-veously hiss-terical! The world kneads my puns, purr real!”

“It’s beyond horrible,” Nino said to Alya, ignoring Adrien completely. “Like, ninety percent of the time they’re cat puns, which never apply because literally none of us own a cat.”

Alya cackled. “Oh man, you remind me of M. Dupain-Cheng!" She pulled out her phone and started recording, adopting the manic expression of a keen paparazzo. "M. Agreste, please, over here, can you spare a pun for your loving fans?!"

The lines of Adrien's friendly face shifted into something stiff and haughty, a classic look _a la_ Gabriel Agreste. "I must vehemently decline. I'll have you know, Mlle. Césaire, that punning is an _art form_ , and therefore should not be treated as cheap on-demand entertainment." He pushed up invisible glasses with a finger, then stared disdainfully down the length of his nose. "Your conduct in this matter is truly disappointing."

"Yikes, that's terrifying," said Alya with a choked laugh, putting her phone away. "Does your dad actually talk like that all the time?"

He shrugged with an ambiguous smile while pretending not to notice Nino nodding furiously off to the side. Two honks sounded from the Gorilla's car, drawing their glances. Trying not to let his disappointment show, Adrien hiked his bag firmly onto his shoulder and turned to leave with a small smile.

“Oh, wait, you still good for Max’s online Ultimate Mecha tournament tonight?” Nino asked.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been looking forward to it all week! I wouldn’t miss my chance to destroy you guys,” Adrien joked. Then a thought struck him. “Though, um, on a completely unrelated note, is Marinette playing…?”

Smirking, Nino let Adrien sweat a little before finally saying, “Nah, don’t worry. Max decided to keep it to bros only tonight. I think he was equally terrified of going up against Mari. That girl can dish it up for real.”

“Seriously.” Adrien nodded sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. He didn't know whether to feel disappointed that he wouldn't be able to see Marinette in action again or relieved that he would have a real shot to clean house in her absence. Maybe one day he would ask her for an online one-on-one match; he could certainly pick up a lot of tips and tricks from a master like her. “Marinette’s amazing.”

Alya shot him a look that was hard to parse and gone in a blink. “Oh yeah, _beyond_ amazing.”

Before he could analyze that weird response further, another honk pierced the air. Nino frowned. “Uh, dude, not that I necessarily want you to go but the Gorilla seems like he’s one second away from ditching the car and carrying you home caveman style.”

"Ooga-booga," Alya agreed.

Indeed, his bodyguard was staring at them from the driver side window, drumming impatiently on the steering wheel. Groaning, Adrien started jogging down the steps. “Alright, see you guys tomorrow!” he called over his shoulder. As he did so, a flash of dark hair and light pink caught his eye. Speak of the devil.

"See you later, Marinette!" Adrien said with an admittedly dorky little wave. His voice caused her to jump nearly a foot in the air. Her gaze locked with his - _so blue, even from afar, wow_ \- then a beat later, he saw her head duck down and away.

Ignoring him?

His stomach flipped.

Scooting into the backseat, Adrien let his head fall back against the headrest. Rolling his neck, he cast one last look at the entrance of the school as the car began to pull away from the curbside. But Marinette wasn't even looking his direction, instead talking earnestly to Ivan who was so tall in comparison, she had to stand nearly on her tip-toes. Normally he would find something like that adorable, but an uneasy feeling had taken up residence in his gut and made it difficult to concentrate on anything else.

_What was that...?_


	2. calm before the storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien isn't sure what's going on with Marinette, but he sure would like to fix it. Meanwhile, Marinette continues her one step forward, two steps backwards process of moving on. 
> 
> Despite it all, it seems these two dorks can't help but be sweet with one another.

By the following week, Adrien was certain of three things.

First: though he was still a bit disappointed that he wasn’t working with Nino for the project, he'd realized that he actually had it pretty good. While Kim wasn’t exactly the most academic student at Françoise Dupont, he was an interesting guy all the same and brought a lot of bright energy to their meetings. He was also, to Adrien’s extreme delight, completely disinterested in all things Agreste Fashion, which made him treat Adrien like any other guy at school. While their topic on performance enhancers in the athlete community probably wouldn't break any new ground, it was still engaging enough that Adrien was able to enjoy himself.

Second: evening patrols with Ladybug had officially gone from being the best part of his day to the absolute worst. Their conversations, previously filled with witty banter and easy affection, had dwindled down to painful small talk with her acting the part of the ever stalwart professional and him playing the part of the broken-hearted fool. He had to bite his tongue nearly every five minutes in an effort to dial back the flirting which had become habit over the years.

In some ways, it was almost like experiencing a second wave of heart break, watching as one of his closest friendships grew into something so stilted and unnatural. But he didn’t know what else to do - one didn’t simply “get over” someone like Ladybug. And since he had loved her pretty much from the first moment they met, it felt like he didn’t even have a “normal” he could try to go back to. No, if he was truly going to let go of his feelings, he needed a total factory reset so hopefully he could learn how to navigate a relationship with her without any romantic undertones.

Finally, third and probably the most concerning of all: something was undeniably, irrefutably weird with Marinette. Over the past few days, he had made several attempts to engage her in conversation, all met with varying degrees of success. Some days, she acted totally fine, actually better than fine, the calmest and the most unfazed he had ever seen her. Other times, she refused to interact, avoiding all eye contact and muttering the weirdest excuses before scuttling away in a hurry.

Truth be told, Marinette had always been a bit weird around him - but this truly seemed beyond the norm. Before she would get red and flustered in his presence, yes, but she had always kept that soft smile on her face, good natured and warm, almost as if to let him know not to take her behavior personally. And her shyness was more or less consistent, every time. Now it was like playing a game of chance with rules he didn’t understand and outcomes he couldn’t even begin to predict.

It was… baffling.

At least with the awkwardness with Ladybug, he could concede it was a situation mostly of his own making. But things with Marinette had taken such a drastic, sudden turn, for what seemed like no reason at all - it made Adrien’s head hurt just thinking about what could have gone wrong.

“Nino, are you _sure_ there isn’t something I’ve done to upset her?” Adrien asked a little desperately. His best friend sighed and patted him sympathetically on the shoulder.

(This may not have been the first time Adrien had asked this question.)

“Dude, sorry, I don’t know what to tell you,” Nino said. “She seems mostly fine to me. Maybe a little down, a little tired, but sometimes Mari gets like that when she’s on a design binge. If she’s shared anything more specific with Alya, I haven’t heard about it. But I’m sure it’s nothing.”

Slumping down to bury his face in his arms, Adrien groaned into the picnic table. “It can’t be _nothing_ , Nino. When I tried to say good morning to her yesterday, she spun around so fast trying to run away she almost fell down the stairs.” He waved a hand off at Nino’s concerned expression. “Oh no, it’s fine, I grabbed her before she could fall. She’s okay. But somehow me saving her made her look even sadder? She made her escape while I was trying to figure out why.”

Tugging at the rim of his hat, Nino paused, started to say something, winced, then hesitated again.

Adrien narrowed his eyes. “Nino.”

“Hm?”

“Nino, do you actually know something?”

Another sigh, this time heavier. “Look, man, a thought may have just occurred to me that _might_ be related to the reason why she’s flipped on you. But, like, this is way beyond confidential. Girl code, y’know?”

“Girl code. Between you and Marinette?” Adrien asked incredulously.

“ _No_ , girl code between Alya and Marinette. Then it’s boyfriend-girlfriend code between Alya and myself.”

“Well, what about bro code?”

“Superseded by the boyfriend-girlfriend code,” Nino shot back instantly, then shuddered. “Plus, I’m way more scared of Alya than I am of you. Er, no offense.”

Adrien dragged a hand through his hair. “You’re killing me here.”

“Sorry, man. Honestly, if it’s what I think it is, then there’s nothing you can do. For real, Adrien. It’s something Mari just needs to work through on her own time. But you know how she is, she’s a good person. She’ll come back around when she’s ready.”

“I guess,” Adrien said, voice uncertain. Not that he had much reason to doubt Nino’s sincerity - his best friend wasn’t the type for lip-service - but it was hard to feel completely comforted when it was becoming apparent that everyone knew what was going on except for him. They were leaving him out of the loop, seemingly on purpose. Didn’t that just confirm he _was_ the cause of all this somehow?

A soft chime played from inside his pocket, the sound making him perk up as he scrambled for his phone.

“Ugh,” slipped from his lips automatically as he read the new message.

“Nathalie on your case?” Nino leaned over to peer at the screen, curious.

Adrien tilted his phone so he could see, feeling dejected and trying to hide it as he said, “Kagami, actually. I told her some of my concerns about Marinette, hoping for advice. But all she said back is: _Seems personal. You should give her space._ ”

Brow raised, Nino asked, “Um, isn’t that basically what I just told you?”

“Yes,” Adrien said with a scowl, knowing he was getting dangerously close to whining. He could hear Plagg snickering quietly in his shirt pocket, the little traitor. “But I didn’t like your answer very much, so I’m not happy getting it a second time.”

Nino laughed while he sulked. The two of them sat in relative silence for a few minutes, Adrien’s eyes lingering on his phone while Nino cast a lazy gaze around the park. Thoughts flashed through his mind like lightning, illuminating one second but gone the next. It was hard to keep track as his brain simultaneously raised new hypotheses only to discard them almost as quickly. Unbidden, memories surfaced of his younger years spent nudging and needling Ladybug beyond her comfort zone, never knowing when to stop pushing, serving only to drive her away in his clumsy attempts to draw her closer. A lesson he eventually learned, but only long after she had established a healthy distance in their partnership that he found difficult to cross even years later. Was he really going to repeat the same mistakes with Marinette, now knowing better?

“Fine.” He finally admitted defeat, closing his eyes as he blew a hard breath through his lips. “You're right. I’ll leave it for now and follow her lead.”

“It'll be okay, dude, I'm sure of it." Patting him on the back again, Nino said consolingly, "You’re a good friend."

But Adrien couldn’t help but wonder at that. _I don’t feel like one._

* * *

“For the pairs that have already gotten my approval for their topic, feel free to use this time to take a trip to the library to get started on your research,” Mme. Bustier said as the class reconvened from lunch. “For the rest, please stay in the classroom and brainstorm with your partner; I’ll be here all period for questions or advice.”

The entire room shifted, partners drawing together organically as the students discussed their work and casually chatted. Marinette shot a sympathetic look at Alya, whose expression was far from pleased. She and Sabrina had _not_ come to a quick or easy agreement on their project topic yet. To the surprise of absolutely no one, Chloé was the reason for their stalemate; she had told Sabrina on day one that under no circumstances was she allowed to participate in a project based on Ladybug or Chat Noir. Apparently, her rage at losing the Bee Miraculous hadn’t calmed down any in the weeks passed, had instead simmered and festered into something ugly.

“Good luck,” Marinette offered, gesturing to Ivan to go on ahead of her. “Though honestly, I don’t know why you’re being so stubborn about this. Aren’t you tired of writing about Ladybug at this point?”

Alya cast her a look of disbelief, one eyebrow raised.

“Fine, fine,” Marinette laughed. “I just think you’re making this a lot harder on yourself than you need to.”

“It's the principle of the thing! I refuse to let Chloé bully me through Sabrina,” said Alya, glaring intently across the room at the mayor’s daughter, who was rolling her eyes as Rose tried to show her something on her phone. Marinette’s heart ached for Alya, recalling the look on her face when Ladybug had met with her after the events of Miracle Queen to explain that she wouldn’t be able to become Rena Rouge again. It was obvious that Chloé wasn't the only one nursing a bit of a grudge, though Marinette definitely empathized more with one than the other.

But technically, she wasn’t supposed to know any of that so all she could do was squeeze Alya’s hand in a wordless show of support. Before she could let go though, Alya motioned her to duck down to whisper in her ear.

“Hey, looks like Adrien is going to the library, too,” Alya said, subtly motioning at the blond grabbing a hall pass from Mme. Bustier’s desk. “Try to remember to stay chill and play nice, girl.”

“I - I can’t exactly help it, Alya,” Marinette muttered, embarrassed.

“You know I’m on your side here, M,” her best friend said with a sympathetic smile. “I know things have got to be tough for you right now. Just remember that Adrien doesn’t know about your feelings, he only sees your reactions. He’s probably super confused about your behavior. So go easy on him, okay?”

The guilt that already lay dormant and waiting perked up at Alya’s gentle reprimand. Marinette let out a gusty sigh. “You’re right, you’re right. I promise I'm not trying to be such a spaz on purpose, it’s just - I’m working so hard to treat him normally like any other friend, but every once in a while, he pops up when I don’t expect him and my guard is down and I just _panic_.”

The memory of his big hand around her wrist, jerking her away from the stairs and close to his chest made her sigh glumly. For just a few seconds, she had been close enough to catch a hint of his scent. It had not been radiant, carefree, or dreamy - apparently Adrien didn’t wear his own fragrance. Still, his cologne had been warm and masculine with some sort of deep earthy undertone. In the span of seconds, Marinette had gotten lost in imagining what it would be like to be this close to Adrien all the time. Holding him and being held, perhaps after one of them had a long day, or even just a hug for hug's sake because he was too cute for her to resist...

But no. That wasn't their relationship, that wasn't her place. And the sooner she came to grips with that, the better for all involved.

She shook her head to rid herself of the memory and raised her eyes back up to meet Alya's concerned face. "You're right, Adrien doesn't deserve to have his feelings hurt because I'm trying to move on. I promise I'll do better."

"That's my girl," Alya cheered. Her supportive expression dropped into a determined grimace as she pretended to roll up her sleeves. "Now, you go ahead. I've got a war of attrition to win."

* * *

By the time Marinette made it to the library, all the other project pairs were set up at various tables and combing through the shelves. She spotted Ivan intently hunched over one of the computers so she decided to leave him be for now. Putting her bag down on a free chair, she pulled out a list of call numbers for hard-copy resources that she had compiled earlier that week. Most were on the second level in the back area, so she headed up the staircase. It was much quieter up here than down below; not many of her classmates had migrated past the reference desk or the computer bank quite yet.

 _Okay, found the first couple. The next two should be... hm, this row?_ Double-checking her list, Marinette ran a careful gaze along the spines of the books at the shelf right at eye-level. _Here they are! Right next to each other, too_. As she pulled them down to add to her pile, the stack in her arms shifted uncertainly.

“Um, hey Marinette,” Adrien said, voice seemingly coming from nowhere. Her head whipped about left and right, trying to find him without success - only to finally see his handsome face peering through the small gap in the books on the shelf she had just taken from. 

“H-hey, Adrien,” she said, completely forgetting about said books in her arms and giving a wave. Three out of five slipped to the floor in a loud clatter. “Eep!”

“Oh!” Adrien’s face disappeared from view as he quickly rounded to Marinette’s side, ducking down to one knee to help her.

She stared down at his perfectly coiffed hair shining in the fluorescent lighting of the library and tried to evaluate the pang in her chest. Was it any less painful than before? Had it gotten any better? Had she improved at all? It was so hard to tell. But maybe that was her answer. Maybe she really _hadn’t_ made any progress these past few days like she first thought. How depressing.

He popped upright with books in hand, but instead of handing them over, he made a grab for the ones remaining in her arms. “Here, let me take those. I’ll help you carry them down.”

 _Stop it_. _Stop being so lovely_ , her heart cried. She pasted on a smile and dropped her gaze to his chin, unable to take the sincere look in his eyes. “Thanks, but you don’t -“

 _Go easy on him_ \- Alya’s words flashed in her brain, making her stop and take notice of the way that Adrien’s shoulders were already starting to droop. She tried to steel her nerves.

“I mean - yes, that would be g-great. Thanks!”

“So,” Adrien asked with a grin as they started winding their way back to the stairs. He craned his head to the side to peer at the book spines. “Quite the collection here. Are these all for your project? What topic did you and Ivan decide on?”

“We, um, decided to study a few of Ivan’s favorite bands and research their stylistic choices and how they work in relation to the music they play. What goes into stage costuming and make up, all of that,” Marinette explained, then reached out to tap on the top volume in his arms which was a biography on Harry Kronkite, a famous American newscaster. “But I also grabbed a few extra books for Alya. Right now she’s being stubborn and digging her heels in on her Ladybug and Chat Noir topic mainly because she doesn’t want to give Chloé the satisfaction. I’m hoping to spark her interest with something else so she’ll ease off a bit, I think poor Sabrina’s going to faint from the tension.”

Adrien grimaced. “Yeah. Chloe still seems super upset with Ladybug and Chat Noir. She’s not exactly being reasonable right now. I kind of feel bad. Uh, for Sabrina, I mean.”

As they reached the ground floor, Marinette pointed to the table where she had left her bag; to her surprise, she had completely missed that Adrien's bag was slung over the chair across from hers. Adrien arranged her books on her side of the table and they both took a seat, just in time to hear Lila's lilting voice coming from one of the nearby shelves.

“It’s going to be amazing, Aurore! I’ve already gotten in touch with M. Agreste and he’s _so_ excited to contribute.”

“That’s really crazy, Lila, I can’t believe you got him to agree! I know you model sometimes for Agreste Fashions, but to actually know Gabriel Agreste personally? Wild!”

“Well, he _was_ the one who scouted me. Right off the street, actually, when I was walking home from school one day. It was totally a shock when his limo pulled up to the sidewalk, I was actually a bit afraid because I didn’t recognize him at first? But then he showed me his tablet with his original concept sketches to prove who he was.”

“Really?” Aurore asked, sounding a little skeptical but also impressed.

“He apologized for scaring me, but apparently I just so perfectly embodied his vision for his new fall line, he couldn’t help himself - and we’ve been close ever since!” Lila said with a shy giggle. “It’s super embarrassing, but he’s actually called me his muse a few times. There’s even going to be a bag in the upcoming spread that’s based off my hair and eye coloring! I could try and get one for you, if you’d like.”

"Um, sure, that would be great!"

"And after we get M. Agreste's interview, I'll work on getting in touch with Jagged. You know, he and I -"

Marinette forced down the white hot protest building in her mouth, trying to swallow past the heavy feeling of watching an injustice and not doing anything to stop it. In a moment of weakness, she cast a quick look over at Adrien’s face, unsure if she would feel better or worse at his usual sympathetic “what-can-you-do” expression. But to her surprise, his normally good-natured features were gone, a grave look in his eyes and a fierce downturn of his lips in their place.

“Hey?” she whispered, nudging her knuckles gently against his clenched hand across the table. “You okay?”

A beat passed. “Hm?” He shook his head slightly, distracted. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Marinette hesitated a moment. “You don’t have to be okay, you know. It’s one thing for her to lie about people we don’t know very well, but another for her to lie about your father.” The recent magazine shoot with Lila and Adrien as partner models suddenly sprang to mind, so she rushed to add, “T-that’s if she’s actually lying about all that, I guess I don’t know for sure if she is. I shouldn’t just assume -“

“Oh, she’s definitely lying,” Adrien said with a sigh. He offered her a tired smile. “It _is_ true that Lila has modeled for him a bit recently, but there’s absolutely no way my father would stop the car to chase down a teenage girl on the streets of Paris and declare her his muse.” Here Adrien’s eyes did a soft roll. “He’s not exactly the leisurely type to window-gaze and he’s definitely not the romantic type to draw inspiration from anyone or anything other than himself.”

“Really?” Marinette asked, bewildered. “That’s crazy, I draw inspiration from my surroundings and my friends all the time!”

“Yeah, I know, I think that’s why I prefer your designs to his,” Adrien admitted, completely unaware of Marinette’s heart suddenly going into full-on cardiac arrest. “You seem to design for a specific person or a specific mood; they’re always fun and so true to yourself as the creator. Like, remember our photo shoot last year? The outfits you made did have a definitive look - gender-neutral Parisian-chic - but. I don't know. I never felt forced to act a certain way when we were taking pictures. I got to be myself, just Adrien out having a fun time with great friends in a beautiful city in super stylish clothes."

Heart unresponsive. Lungs shutting down, vision growing dim...

"On the other hand, Father’s designs are objectively beautiful and interesting to look at, sure, but they always make me feel like the clothes are wearing me. Like, my entire purpose is to complement the design instead of the other way around. Almost as if Adrien the person doesn't really matter.”He laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, does any of that even make sense?”

 _Pull yourself together, don't you dare leave him hanging!_ Marinette nodded thoughtfully, trying to see beyond his unbelievable compliments and instead focus on the main point he had brought up. “Yeah, it does. Honestly, I had no idea you felt like that, that’s kind of a shame. It’s always been important to me that a person feel empowered - rather than overpowered - in my clothes.”

“Yes, exactly!”

They shared a shy smile.

"You know..." Marinette started, an awful idea formulating in her brain. She dropped her gaze to the table because otherwise there was no way she was ever going to be able to go through with this. "I could - maybe - if you're interested - feel free to say no, of course - I could, um, maybe design something for you? Just for fun, just because we're f-friends!"

"Really?!" Nearly jumping at the level of excitement in his voice, Marinette's eyes flew up to his automatically, stunned by how brightly he shone in that moment. "That would be amazing! Are you sure? You're not too busy?" he asked eagerly.

"M-maybe not right away, with this project going on," she said, feeling the heat pool in her cheeks and ears. "But a-after, sure."

"Of course, let's wait," Adrien agreed. "Oh man, I'm so excited now! I'll have my first Dupain-Cheng original. Or rather, my second.” He pulled out his lucky charm bracelet with a wink.

Y _our fourth, actuall_ y. Marinette nearly drew blood biting down on her lip to keep that one in her pocket. If she hadn’t told Adrien about his scarf or his beret back when she was trying to win him over, she certainly wasn’t going to do so now. "Start thinking about what kind of piece you might want. I can probably do a couple of concept sketches in the next few weeks, those should be simple enough." 

"I'll start brainstorming right away!"

* * *

Unbeknownst to their wielders, Plagg had long phased through Adrien’s bag into Marinette’s, bumping up obnoxiously into his lucky counterpart. Rolling her eyes, Tikki pushed him away by the face with both paws. “Ugh, you smell _awful_ , Plagg. Get out of here! This bag is definitely not big enough for the both of us.”

“Aww!” The kwami of destruction grinned slyly and cuddled right back up to her, ignoring her silent gagging. “You say the _sweetest_ things, Sugarcube. You know, I downed a whole chunk of camembert before coming over here, just so I could smell my best for you.”

“You’re disgusting,” Tikki said flatly, pulling up a half-eaten cookie leftover from Marinette’s lunch to her face in hopes of blocking out the rotten cheese smell. “I honestly don’t know how Chat Noir puts up with you.”

“That kitten’s all puns, no bite,” Plagg said with a dismissive sniff. “And he’s even worse than usual, considering Ladybug's left him heartbroken and Marinette has his head spinning with all her recent mood swings.”

Nibbling on her treat, Tikki hummed in vague agreement. This certainly wasn’t Marinette’s finest hour, but surely her poor girl deserved a little slack when taking into consideration all the other extraordinary things she had to deal with these days.

So Tikki pushed back. “Don’t forget that this is partly his fault too. Chat Noir pulling away from Ladybug right now when she’s feeling the pressure of her new Guardian role is just making her feel even more isolated. Plus, Adrien was the one who decided to move on first, but instead of finally taking notice of Marinette right in front of him, he starts pursuing their mutual friend instead.”

Their eyes locked and after a beat, they both rolled them.

“They’re such idiots, Tikki,” Plagg moaned dramatically.

“Well, yes,” she sighed. “But maybe we can help them somehow? Nudge them in the right direction?”

“There’s only so much hinting about Pigtails I can reasonably do without him getting suspicious,” Plagg shot back. “Unless you _want_ them to find out each others’ identities? Clear up this whole mess and do this the easy way?”

The withering look Tikki shot him spoke entire novels.

“So that’s a ‘no’ on the easy route," Plagg said, rolling his eyes again. "Look who I'm talking to. I should have known."

"Hey!"

"Just callin' it like I see it, Sugarcube."

"I have faith they'll figure it out," Tikki said, then paused. "Eventually. Some day." She made a face, considering. "Probably."

"Yeah, right," he snorted. "So basically, nothing short of an all out miracle or an all out catastrophe will bring those two together. Got it."

Tikki hated to admit it, but Plagg probably had a point. Hopefully it would be the former rather than the latter, but who could say for sure? They were working with powerful forces - extreme good luck and extreme bad luck - after all. Eventually one of them would have to win out.

Tikki just prayed it would be her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay! I had a few personal and work things going on that took precedence the past two weeks and then these two dorks would. just. not. stop. talking. in this chapter. But I hope it was worth the wait!
> 
> Next update is scheduled for Sunday 06/13.
> 
> Please let me know your thoughts! Huge shout-out to the readers who left kudos and comments last chapter, each one made me so, so happy. Thank you again!
> 
> * is the "deep earthy undertone" of Adrien's scent a reference to Plagg's camembert? You bet your cheesy kwami it is.  
> * there is no "Harry Kronkite," that's just a stupid reference to Walter Cronkite, haha


	3. lightning strikes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lila goes to work. Unsurprisingly, things get worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sorry for those subscribed - I uploaded this chapter but had some display/tech issues with it so immediately deleted it and reposted
> 
> **You may see "Lila" down in the comments; PLEASE disregard and do NOT engage them. Let's call this a favor to me, yeah? Thanks, all!

Stepping out of her house, Lila took a moment to roll up the waistband of her skirt, inching the garment from a modest knee-length up to the middle of her thighs, before untucking her blouse. Humming to herself, she applied a generous layer of shiny lip gloss and freed her hair from its ponytail. Transformed, she made the quick walk from her house to Françoise Dupont where she made her final adjustment: replacing black flats for orange kitten heels.

“Good morning, Lila!” Jacques, a friend from a neighboring class, called from the front steps.

“Morning,” she replied with her best smile. “How’s it going, Jacques?”

“Not too bad. Trying to cram for Mendeleiev’s quiz today.”

“Good luck with that,” Lila chirped, thoroughly uninterested. She tried to pass him on the stairs, nearly jumping when he threw out an arm to block her.

“Say, Lila…” he began.

 _Ugh,_ she thought to herself. _He better not try to ask me out. I have much bigger fish to fry than some random architect’s son_.

"Yes? What’s up?” she asked.

“So there’s this really pretty girl in your class that I’ve kind of been interested in. She’s got these gorgeous blue eyes and legs for days and the cutest little fluffy pigtails, and. Well, see, I wanted to ask if you know if she’s dating anyone?”

There was only one girl he could be talking about, of course; no other self-respecting teenager was childish enough to still be doing their hair in pigtails, for crying out loud. Despite her disgust, Lila did her best to school her face into the most sympathetic grimace she could muster.

(It wasn’t that hard. After all, if Jacques actually was interested in that brat Dupain-Cheng, he deserved all the pity he could get.)

“I know who you’re talking about,” she said hesitantly, reaching out to pat him on the arm. “But I really don’t think it’s a good idea to ask her out right now, Jacques. Marinette _is_ single, but that’s only because her last boyfriend couldn’t stand it anymore and broke up with her.”

“O-oh.” Jacques blinked. “Uh, stand what?”

Leaning in, as if this were a secret she loathed to share, Lila whispered, “Well, Marinette has a lot on her plate, you know, and sometimes she gets super stressed out by everything. And when that happens, she… it’s horrible, but she takes it out on those closest to her. She’ll explode and say the most horrible things. And we all know she doesn’t mean any of it, she always apologizes after, but I don’t know. I really don’t _want_ to call it abuse, but…”

“Holy shit,” Jacques breathed.

Lila’s expression crumpled. “Oh, please don’t tell anyone I told you that! I just think you ought to know what she’s like before you ask her out. But maybe she’ll be different with you?”

Immediately, the boy shook his head. “No, no, that’s, uh, that’s good information to have. I think maybe I’ll just back off. I mean, I don’t like her _that_ much. It’s just a crush, you know, and c’mon, what even are crushes these days anyway? Haha… ha.”

Lila patted him on the arm again. “I’m glad I told you, then. I just couldn’t bear to see my friend get hurt, especially if there was something I could do to stop it.”

Jacques stared at her, the beginnings of a blush gathering in the apples of his cheeks and the tips of his ears. “Thanks so much, Lila. You’re a really good person. A-and, I gotta say, you look great this morning.”

“That is so sweet, thank you,” she cooed, pressing a quick kiss to his red cheek. “I’ll see you later, Jacques! Let’s grab lunch sometime.”

She sauntered up the stairs, letting her long hair swish behind her teasingly. Faintly, she heard him murmur, _I would love to_ , as she walked away. Feeling giddy at just how easy that had been, Lila let a real grin tug at the corners of her mouth. Truly, not bad for her first five minutes on campus. Lila idly hoped that the rest of the day would go just as smoothly. It probably would, so long as she could avoid talking to -

“Lila?”

_Shit._

Lila spun around on the spot, pasting on her sunniest expression. “Morning, Aurore!”

The blonde weather girl stood with her arms crossed, a dark glare marring her normally bright disposition.

 _Double shit_. Trying to play dumb, Lila asked, “Is something wrong? Are you mad at me or something?”

Aurore snorted as she threw her arms up in the arm. “I’m not mad, Lila, but — jeez. I tried calling you last night to talk about our project. I called _five times_ but I couldn’t get a hold of you! The same thing happened the day before, you were just never around. Have you been avoiding me?”

Lila let her eyes go wide and vulnerable, the perfect picture of innocence. “I’m sorry, Aurore! I spent most of my weekend live tweeting a fundraising event for the Clean Water charity I created with Prince Ali in Achu but then my tendonitis started flaring up from all the typing. Both wrists this time. My mom got really worried so she confiscated my phone and laptop.”

Taken aback, Aurore blinked once, twice. “Oh, I’m… sorry to hear that. How are your wrists doing now?”

Lila locked arms with the other girl and gave her a grateful smile. “Much better, thank you! It’s a condition that I’m always going to have to live with, but that’s okay. I’m used to it. Let’s forget about that for now, though. What did you want to talk about for our project?”

“Well… in all honesty, Lila, I’m getting a little concerned,” Aurore said, not bothering to mask the frustration in her voice. “You said you were going to handle getting all of our interviews but that was two weeks ago, and you still haven’t been able to set anything up. I need to know what’s going on.”

“Oh, Aurore, I’m so sorry. It’s actually a total disaster,” Lila said, eyes starting to water. “Mme. Bourgeois was _so_ receptive when I reached out early on, but now she’s completely ignoring all of my calls. I honestly don’t know what happened, but maybe Chloé said something to her?”

“I - okay,” Aurore said, pinching the bridge of her nose and taking a deep calming breath. “Sounds like Chloé, all right. But what about M. Agreste? I was sure that would work out since you’re his muse and everything!”

“Apparently, M. Agreste is knee-deep in designing the next winter line. His rotten assistant won’t even let me speak to him, she’s completely stonewalled me.” Lila said, only half lying that time. She _had_ tried to reach out to Gabriel for the project but all her calls had gone straight to that horrid Nathalie, who very politely and very firmly to told her to knock it off - or else.

“Winter line…? Lila, winter just ended.”

“It’s actually for _next_ year’s winter line. Inspiration struck him early, I guess. I’m sure you know how those genius types can be, since you’re a TV celebrity and all!”

“Then what about Jagged Stone?” Aurore asked a bit desperately.

Lila sniffled. “Oh, this is the worst part. I _did_ call Jagged. But he said that he’d already been contacted by someone in our school and ‘that person’ requested he not speak to anyone else so they could have the only interview.”

“What? That’s nuts!” Aurore said, appalled. “Did he say who?”

Sniffling, Lila reached into her pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. She dabbed at the corners of her eyes delicately, careful not to smudge her eyeliner. “No, he was very careful not to mention names. Still, he felt bad for rejecting me and let it slip that it was someone ‘he owed a lot to.’”

“Jagged Stone owes somebody at school? _Our_ school? Are you sure?”

“Sounds crazy, right?” Lila bit her lip. “But then I got to thinking… well… besides myself, isn’t there someone else who knows Jagged?”

Aurore stared at her blankly; Lila resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She was practically spoon-feeding this! How much harder did a girl need to hint?

She tried again. “I mean, I don’t know how close they are, but I do remember Marinette saying that she had designed a few things for him.”

Reeling back in shock, Aurore raised a brow and put her hands up in the air. “Marinette? As in, Marinette from our class? I guess she does know Jagged, now that I think about it. But none of that makes sense to me. Marinette’s way too nice to do something like this.”

“Marinette _can_ be really nice,” Lila agreed, the words like ash on her tongue. “Except for some reason, she’s never really liked me. I have no idea why. I mean, I know I got her in trouble a few years back, but it’s not like I did it on purpose! It was due to a serious medical condition that I can’t control! Even after I apologized and set things right with M. Damocles, she still blamed me for everything.”

At her rising volume, Aurore shot a quick look around and pulled Lila gently by the arm to the side of the courtyard. The girl sniffled again as she wobbled her way over to one of the benches.

“But the hardest part is that I just feel so bad about dragging you down with me, Aurore! All because Marinette is holding a grudge about an accident years ago. It’s beyond horrible that you have to deal with this, even though none of this is your fault. I’m so mad at myself -“

“Whoa, I mean, don’t worry about me,” Aurore said awkwardly. “I’m more worried about you, honestly. That stuff with Marinette seems really serious. I had no idea it was that bad.”

“It’s just really scary, you know?” Lila whispered. “Everyone in class loves Marinette, I don’t think they realize there’s another side to her that can be really mean and petty. And since she’s the class rep, all the teachers think she’s great and they don’t believe if anyone says otherwise.”

“But -“ Aurore hesitated. The conflict was crystal clear on her face as she wavered between disbelief and sympathy.

Lila watched as her unease intensified and decided to bump it up a notch or two. She trembled, her lips quivering as teardrops clung precariously to her bottom eyelashes. Was that too much? No. No, it was perfect.

“Marinette’s always been so sweet to me,” Aurore said lamely. “It’s just really hard to believe.”

Lila’s tears spilled over. She began to sob. 

Aurore rushed to reassure her. “But I totally do! Believe you, that is. It sounds like Marinette is way out of line here.”

“Thank you, Aurore,” Lila said in a quiet voice, smiling up at the blonde girl. It took a moment for Aurore to return it, but she did.

 _Got you._ Lila fought to keep from snickering. _Got you hook_ _, line, and sinker._

* * *

At lunchtime, the school courtyard came alive with students from all classes rushing to claim the tables for lunch. Despite the remnants of winter chill in the air, the sun shone brightly above, providing enough warmth to those armed properly with sweaters and light jackets. By the time Marinette and Alya finished Mendeleiev's quiz and got outside, all the tables had been filled; luckily, they were prepared for such a possibility. Digging into her backpack, Marinette produced a pink blanket that she laid down on the pavement on the outskirts of the basketball court.

“So you and Adrien seem to be better lately,” Alya said as they set up camp, removing the lid to her thermos. The smell of a hearty lentil soup arose, making Marinette even more eager to dig into her spring vegetable quiche.

“It’s still not easy,” Marinette said with a shrug. “But it is getting _easier_.”

“I’m proud of you, M.”

A little wiggle from her purse lying against her hip indicated Tikki agreed. Giggling, Marinette patted her bag. “Thanks, Alya. I’ve got to admit, it’s definitely nice to actually talk to him. It’s pretty ridiculous when I think about how badly I wasted my chance to get to know him before.”

“My little girl is all grown up now,” Alya said, sniffling.

“Oh come on, stop it.”

“I’m serious, Marinette! I’m very impressed. It sounds like you’ve matured a lot these past few weeks. I mean, I’m sorry for the reason behind it, but I gotta say, I really do like some of the changes it’s brought about in you.”

Marinette contemplated that for a moment. It was true. Having to move on from her unrequited love not by choice but instead due to circumstance was painful. Maybe one of the most painful experiences she’s ever had to face. But if it hadn’t happened, she wasn’t sure she would have ever gotten out of that nebulous “what-if” space. She wished that she could be certain that she would have eventually confessed, but honestly, it had always been a toss-up. At least now she had her answer and could move forward.

“You’re right,” Marinette said at last. She looked down at her hands in her lap, feeling shy but proud at her progress. “I really am getting better.”

“Mari, don’t say it like that.” Alya looked at her seriously, a fond smile budding on her face. “Yes, you may have made some changes and are now working towards something healthier, but there is no ‘better’ than you. You _are_ the best.”

Throat tight, Marinette pointed her fork at Alya, trying to sound stern. “If you make me cry on my quiche, friendship over.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Alya said, snickering. After a moment, Marinette joined her.

“Thanks, Alya,” Marinette repeated.

“Anytime, girlfriend.”

They resumed eating and after a very carefully timed five minute interval, Alya casually asked, "So, if my OTP isn't happening anymore, can we please start talking about Luka?"

Blushing, Marinette opened her mouth, closed it. Then opened it again - only to thankfully be interrupted.

“Yo, dudettes!”

“Yo, ‘my dude,’” Alya replied wryly. Despite her tone, she still wrapped an arm around Nino’s waist as soon as he sat down. Her eyes conveyed to Marinette: _You got away this time, but don't think I'm dropping this,_ to which Marinette subtly stuck out her tongue.

Adrien gestured to the spot next to Marinette with a gentlemanly smile and she nodded in permission. The blanket wasn’t huge, so she scooted a bit to her left to give him more room. Still, somehow, he ended up close enough that she could feel the heat of his thigh, nearly pressing against hers. When the breeze blew, she detected a hint of his bright, warm scent on the air.

“So what were you guys talking about?”

Alya and Marinette shared a look.

“School work!”

“My new jacket design!”

Nino cracked up at their overlapping answers. Adrien just looked bemused.

“We were talking about how school work was forcing our homegirl to put aside her new jacket design. Right, girl?” Alya asked. Marinette looked off to the side, determined to avoid eye contact, making Alya gasp dramatically. “Marinette Antoinette Dupain-Cheng! You didn’t!”

Scowling, Marinette said, “Will you stop joking about that? People are actually starting to think my middle name rhymes with my first name!”

The reprimand didn’t land, Alya leaning forward in eagerness. “I thought you said you weren’t going to work on it during the project.”

“Well,” Marinette said sheepishly. “Maman and Papa surprised me with some leather fabric as a gift. I couldn’t help myself! Oh, but your project is definitely next, don’t think I’ve forgotten,” she assured Adrien who gave her a big grin.

“No problem, Mari.“ Her heart thumped at the nickname. “I can wait. Right now, I’m more curious to see what you _are_ working on. Do you have any progress pics to show us?”

“Or were you maybe planning to show us the jacket itself?” Alya asked knowingly, gesturing to Marinette’s backpack which she normally kept in the classroom on the days they ate lunch in the yard.

She _did_ have it in her backpack, actually, but she’d only been intending to show it to Alya. Next to her, Adrien and Nino gave her expectant looks, clearly excited.

“Stop torturing us, Marinette, show us what you’ve got!”

Worrying her bottom lip, Marinette drew in a deep breath and tried to calm her fluttering nerves. She was confident in her skills as a budding designer but there were still times where doubt would creep in and make her pause. Sensing her hesitation, Alya and Adrien both reached out at the same time to grasp her hands in support while Nino gave her an encouraging thumbs up.

She laughed and shook herself free, smiling gratefully at her friends before digging into her bag to pull out her nearly completed design. The jacket that she had originally planned to do in suede was completely transformed from her initial vision. Switching the fabric to leather had definitely changed the way she approached the work and she’d had to course correct more than a few different times when details from the original had to be scrapped. Still, she was really proud at how it had turned out. The leather was a dark purple, so dark it almost looked black, with meticulous hand embroidery detailing the sleeves and back in shimmery golden thread. The inside was lined with a flashy purple taffeta, the color quite close to the dye in Jagged’s hair.

“Oh my god -“

“Are you kidding me -“

“ _Wow_ , Mari -“

“How cute, Marinette!” cut in a fourth voice, sugary and cloying, that immediately put Marinette on edge. “Did you design this?”

“Hey Lila,” she replied with a sigh. Adrien’s hand returned to hers for a quick squeeze, which made her relax slightly. After talking with him in the library last Monday, she definitely felt more in tune with him regarding Lila; it had been like a misaligned puzzle piece finally clicking back into place. It helped her to feel a little less alone overall.

“Isn’t it amazing,” Alya cooed, scooting closer to Nino so Lila would have a small spot of the blanket to perch on.

Lila folded herself gracefully on the freed up space and set down her lunchbox and soda bottle next to her. “Super cool, Marinette! You are _so_ talented, you know. Do you think I could maybe ask you to design something similar for me?”

“You’re looking to commission her?” Adrien asked before anyone else could respond. His tone was bland but politely interested, unfaltering even as Marinette shot him a bewildered look.

“Um, commission?” Lila repeated back, uncertain.

“Yeah, you know, submit an official request and then pay her for the work. Like I’m doing? You weren’t asking for her to make you a custom piece for nothing, I’m sure,” he replied, as pleasant as ever. “I mean, you would have to at least compensate for cost of materials, plus all the time and effort she would need to put in.”

“Oh,” Lila said tightly, the smile on her face sharp enough to hurt. The two engaged in the most terrifying stare down Marinette had ever seen before Lila broke it off with a bright laugh. “ _Of course_ that’s exactly what I meant, Adrien. Thank you for clarifying.”

She turned back to Marinette and directed that tense smile her way. “So what do you think? Oh, please say you’ll do it!”

Marinette paused, feeling a bit of dread pool in her stomach at the idea. She knew Lila had no intention of paying her, would probably come up with some farfetched story about how all of her money had to be donated at the last minute to rescue some fake dignitary’s daughter from kidnappers or something. She ran fingers over the piping on her jacket to try and calm her racing thoughts. “Well, I don’t know..."

The smile dropped from Lila’s face, replaced by a hurt look.

“What Marinette means to say,” Alya rushed to add, “is that she’s not taking any requests or commissions right now. It’s nothing personal, Lila!”

 _Yes it is_ , the childish part of Marinette’s brain insisted. “Alya’s right,” Marinette said instead. “Just - with the project and all. It’s busy.”

Perking back up, Lila shook her head and giggled. “No problem then! I should have known better than to ask when I know things are crazy. I’m totally sorry, Marinette. I hope you can forgive me!”

“I -“ _would rather smash this quiche into your face_ \- “forgive you, it’s no problem.”

Alya beamed at both of them.

Conversation quickly regained its flow, even with the addition of Lila to the mix, and the next few minutes passed in peaceful chatter. Marinette tried to engage where she could, but frankly, she just didn’t have much energy to spare playing nice during a time that was supposed to be her break. She instead sat with the jacket in her lap, running a critical eye over the seams and the brass treble clef zipper piece she’d added. Adrien tapped gently on the jacket’s breast pocket where an edgy “JS” was embroidered, and gave her a thumbs-up when she brought her eyes up to meet his. He also rolled his eyes softly after darting them quickly over to where Lila was in the middle of telling a ridiculous story, gesticulating wildly with her soda bottle in hand.

“No way, Lila! That’s insane!”

“Dudette, you got _the_ life, y’know that?” Nino asked with an awed shake of his head.

Lila laughed, shaking her hands at their responses. “I know I’m luckier than most, but I’m still just a normal girl, I swear.”

“Nah, come on, don’t be so modest,” Nino prodded. “You’re pretty awesome, Lila, but you never let it go to your head. That’s one reason why you’re so cool. Don’t you -"

* * *

“- think so, man?”

Adrien swallowed, honestly caught off guard by Nino’s earnest question. “Me?”

“Uh, yeah, dude. Are you okay? You’ve been pretty quiet so far.”

“Fine, I’m fine,” he said hastily. “Sorry, it’s just that my stomach’s a little upset right now, that’s all.”

Lila pressed a hand over her heart as her brow furrowed. “Oh no, Adrien! That’s not good. Here, do you want some of my coke? I’ve heard it can help settle stomachs.”

“I’m good, Lila, there’s no need -“

“Just a little sip! I’m betting it’ll help,” she insisted, holding the bottle across the blanket until Adrien slowly took it from her. He cast a quick glance around the circle, glumly taking in Nino and Alya’s concerned but encouraging faces. Marinette was looking down again, her bright blue eyes hidden from view by her eyelashes. Reluctantly, he twisted the cap open, only to drop the entire bottle in shock as dark soda gushed everywhere, fizzing uncontrollably.

Lila shrieked and leapt to her feet, Alya and Marinette following shortly after, and the boys another moment behind. Some students in the courtyard peered around to see what the commotion was about, but quickly lost interest. By the time the spray died down and Adrien fumbled to close the cap, the blanket was sodden with big, dark cola stains.

Stains…?

 _Oh no_ , Adrien thought, every molecule in his body suddenly leaden with dread. He turned back to Marinette who had been the one sitting closest to him. Her pink capris were similarly darkened by the soda and in her arms, exactly as he’d feared, she still clutched the newest Dupain-Cheng original piece. Though the leather was dark, Adrien could make out sections that were darker than normal, having absorbed the cola; a decent section of the purple taffeta lining was visible too, clearly discolored.

“Your jacket!” Lila cried out, pulling out a handkerchief from her pocket.

Marinette blinked in shock, a slowly dawning horror clouding her blank expression as realization sunk in. She pulled the jacket away from her chest, trying to assess the damage, when Lila pounced.

“Wait - stop!” Marinette yelled. Lila ignored her and continued to rub at the jacket with her handkerchief. Adrien took a half step forward, wanting to intervene, pull Lila away, but unsure if that would be appropriate.

“ _Stop_ , you’re not supposed to rub at stains on leather!”

“What?” Lila asked innocently. “But that doesn’t make any sense -“

“You’re ruining it!” Marinette said, nearly in tears. She shoved Lila back hard in panic, whirling around to protect her creation, not noticing when Lila stumbled and dropped to the ground.

“Marinette!” Alya said.

Adrien couldn’t tell if it was a general cry of shock for her friend or some sort of reproach for the push, but either way, he was done just standing there like an idiot. He strode over their lunch dishes to Marinette’s side, trying to get her to look at him and only him.

“Let me see it,” he said gently, reaching for the jacket in slow, measured movements so as to not agitate her further. She handed it over, so visibly upset it made his entire heart go feral, an angry beast caged by the bones of his chest. He refused to look over at Nino and Alya helping Lila to her feet; he knew if he laid eyes on her, he might actually snap.

“Why don’t you and I go to your house right now and do some damage control,” Adrien offered, hoping that might distract Marinette from Lila and defuse the situation. She wiped angrily at her eyes but nodded, to his relief. Reaching down, he grabbed her backpack with one hand and put a comforting arm around her shoulders with the other as he started leading them over to the school entrance.

“I was just trying to help,” Lila said pitifully, tears pooling in her eyes. “You didn’t have to get physical with me!”

 _Crap._ Marinette tensed under his arm, then jerked back around to give a lethal glare.

“You should have stopped when I told you to stop!” Marinette cried. “Now I’m sure some of the staining will be _impossible_ to get out. This fabric was expensive, a gift from my parents! I won’t be able to pay for replacements for months!”

“Marinette, I get that you’re upset, but please don’t take it out on me. Like I said, I was just trying to h-help,” Lila said shakily, lip wobbling.

“Are you kidding me? This was all your fault to begin with!”

”W-what?!”

“Don’t play innocent, Lila! You were shaking your soda on purpose, weren’t you? I bet you planned this from the start!”

The sinking feeling in Adrien’s gut agreed with Marinette. Lila had definitely been waving around her soda for a minute or two leading up to the accident, which seemed odd. Wouldn’t most people put it down so their hands could be free? And then her insistence that he take some…

Nino cleared his throat and raised his hands placatingly. “Okay, Mari, Lila, let’s just all chill for a sec and take a breath.”

“How can I possibly ‘chill,’ Nino?!”

“She’s the one who’s blaming me for an accident!”

Marinette let out a cry of frustration. “You are the _worst_ , Lila, the absolute worst! Don’t you dare come near me _ever_ again!”

Alya gaped. “Marinette!” Her voice was definitely tinged with reproach this time. Even Nino looked uncomfortable. Nearby, other students were staring, intrigued by the drama unfolding before them.

“She’s a liar, Alya,” Marinette said, her voice weakening under the force of her best friend’s piercing glare. “And not a good person. I’ve told you this.”

“Mari, you really are -“

“I would think hard about what you’re about to say to your best friend, before you say it,” Adrien warned softly, unable to help himself. Marinette, deflated, tucked herself back next to him, her expression a conflicting mix of anger and defeat, missing the flash of regret on Alya's face.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Adrien said, and guided her away amidst the whispers.

* * *

“Whoa. That seemed… intense,” Mireille whistled, watching as the Agreste kid walked Marinette to the exit. The rest of the group murmured in agreement.

“Did anyone even see what started it?” one of the boys asked, curious.

“I mean, it kind of looked like that one chick just lost it all of a sudden. I dunno, I wasn’t really paying close attention.”

Aurore fiddled with the end of her long hair, filled once again with a serious unease. Everything she had just witnessed really did seem to echo Lila’s heartbroken words from earlier this morning, though she loathed to admit it.

“Oh man, just like she said,” Mireille’s classmate Jacques muttered, causing Aurore to startle. The words were uncomfortably close to the narrative running through her own head.

”What?”

The boy shrank back under her intense question, unsure. “Well, Lila was telling me that Marinette has temper issues, especially when she gets stressed. And sometimes she takes it out on other people...”

“Wait, what?”

“That’s so not cool!”

”Are you sure? I’ve know Marinette since primaire, she’s never seemed the type.”

Jacques shrugged, looking vaguely nauseated at the bullet he’d dodged. “Lila told me so herself. She’s too nice to lie about something that crazy man, and c’mon, you just saw the same thing I did, right?”

Frowning, Mireille tapped her chin as she thought aloud, “You said that Marinette is their class rep? Honestly, that’s kind of nuts considering how unhinged she seems. At the very least, it sounds like there’s a real conflict of interest because of how much she hates Lila.”

Several others voiced agreement. 

“The more I think about it, the more I think that this is really screwed up,” Mireille continued. “A girl like that shouldn’t be in charge of her class, right?”

A multitude of memories and examples of Marinette’s above-and-beyond mentality in the classroom flashed through Aurore’s mind and she opened her mouth to speak up. But as quickly as they came, they were replaced by the look of rage on Marinette’s face as she screamed at a crying Lila. She bit her lip. Maybe Marinette had made a good class representative in the past — but that was clearly no longer true. Especially if, as Jacques said, it wasn’t just Lila who Marinette was lashing out at.

“I think we should do something about it,” was what she ended up saying. Mireille and Jacques nodded, the rest soon following suit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay! 
> 
> Huge thank you to everyone who gave kudos and wrote comments so far. I treasure every single one, sincerely.
> 
> We’re starting to really hit the main plot line of this story, so I hope you all stay tuned for the next part! It’s going to be a bit of a doozy.
> 
> **You may see "Lila" down in the comments; PLEASE disregard and do NOT engage them. Let's call this a favor to me, yeah? Thanks, all!


	4. the storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The storm hits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is way too long but I really wanted to post it all in one go instead of splitting it up. I'm sorry if it ends up being a bit of a slog!
> 
> Oh -- and brace yourselves, everyone.

As Adrien guided her off the school campus, Marinette felt the weight of her classmates’ whispers and stares follow her out. While normally that level of attention would have her turning beet red, now she felt curiously numb to it. Tom and Sabine’s Boulangerie was packed for the lunch rush, the line extending out the door, so Marinette led Adrien straight to the residential entrance to their apartment. Quietly, they shuffled into the living room and up the stairs into her loft.

“Can I lay this out on the floor?” Adrien asked gently, gesturing to a clear space in the center of her room. Marinette nodded, suddenly exhausted. Kneeling down, Adrien took great care in unfolding and placing the jacket, meticulously splaying both sleeves to see the full range of damage.

“It’s not as bad as I thought,” he said, sounding relieved. “I checked the back while we were walking, I think you mostly protected that side, so it’s just these areas here.” His fingers hovered over two larger spots of discoloration, one on the front near the left-hand pocket and the other inside on the taffeta lining.

Marinette stared down at her jacket and tried to muster up the positive energy to switch into recovery mode, but it felt impossible in that moment, like those previously accessible emotions were completely blocked off. After everything that had just happened, now all she could see were the flaws: the crooked embroidery on the left arm, the small scratch on the leather she had made with a needle by accident, the few areas of awkward bunching in the liner. This piece that she had worked so hard on it, that just this morning she had felt immense pride for — suddenly, she couldn’t find a single thing about it that she liked.

It just looked ugly to her.

“Marinette?”

She gave Adrien a smile, but it felt tight on her face, unnatural. His concerned expression confirmed it wasn’t a very reassuring gesture. “I’m okay, just tired,” she said.

“Did you want to lie down?” he asked, jerking a thumb towards the stairs. “I can go, if you’d rather some time by yourself.”

“No, no,” Marinette said, not realizing until that moment how much she did not want him to leave. “Please stay, if you don’t mind. I-I appreciate your help.”

“Of course I don’t mind, it’s the least I can do,” he said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. It dropped faster than she liked as he reached down to type on his phone. “Hm, okay. Google says we should grab some paper towels, see if we can soak up the cola in the material. No rubbing,” Adrien winced, “just dabbing. Then it says we should mix some dish detergent in a cup of water and put it on a cloth?”

Marinette scrubbed at her face, trying to pull her thoughts together. Adrien was looking at her so hopefully, so earnestly, that she was starting to feel a bit better, cheered at the thought that her friend was trying this hard to help. And having clear and simple instructions on what to do next also helped to chase some of the fog from her brain. “Um, okay, that all sounds doable. Let me go grab the stuff real quick, you can stay up here. I should be back in five.”

“That sounds good,” Adrien agreed.

“I can grab us some snacks, too, if you’re still hungry? I don’t know if you were able to finish your lunch before — well, before.”

“Some snacks?” Adrien stilled, every line of his body unmoving except the slight widening of his eyes. Marinette had to stifle a laugh; clearly, someone was excited.

“Any requests?” she asked innocently.

Coughing a bit, Adrien shrugged. “Oh, whatever you’ve got down there. Croissants, cookies - just, whatever. No preference, really.”

“Sure.”

Heading back into the main level of the apartment, Marinette double-checked the floor to make sure her parents were indeed still downstairs in the shop. Once confirmed, she finally gave in to the persistent taps from her purse and popped the clasp open.

“All clear, Tikki,” she said, keeping her voice low just to be safe. Her friend spiraled out from the bag and drew up to eye-level, small face scrunched with worry.

“Are you okay, Marinette?” Tikki asked.

Marinette deflected for a bit, stepping into the kitchen space and collecting all the various things that they would need. Paper towels, a rag, a cup of water with a bit of dish detergent. As she moved on to the snacks, Tikki floated behind her, patiently giving her space to collect her thoughts.

“I’m okay,” Marinette finally said, as she assembled everything on to a food tray to bring back upstairs. “I was really angry and upset before, but now I just feel… drained. I know I should probably feel bad for pushing Lila. I don’t like that I got physical with her even if we were arguing. But in that moment, I wasn’t thinking clearly, it was like my whole brain was screaming at me to just get her away somehow. I - I need to apologize to her for that, I guess.”

“Oh, I know you didn’t do it on purpose, Marinette. It was an action borne of panic, you didn’t mean to hurt her. And really, I can’t blame you. That girl took things way too far this time,” Tikki said heatedly.

Cupping her hands together to form a seat, Marinette waited until Tikki dropped into her palms before bringing her up to nudge their faces together. “Thanks, Tikki,” Marinette whispered. “I was afraid you’d be disappointed in me. I — that wasn’t really the way Ladybug should act.”

“Marinette, the only thing I’m disappointed in is the fact that I can’t do more,” Tikki said firmly, crossing her arms. “This is a human problem and one where my powers and Ladybug’s powers won’t do you any good. I know that, but I still can’t help but wish I could help you somehow!”

“It’s alright, Tikki. You always support me, that’s help enough.”

Tikki’s large eyes nearly glistened with how intensely they gazed into Marinette’s. Her kwami hesitated for a moment, obviously mulling over her next words carefully.

“Just please be careful, Marinette,” Tikki said. “You’re Ladybug _and_ the Guardian now. If there is anyone who we cannot have akumatized, it’s you.”

“Or Chat Noir.” Marinette swallowed hard, dry eyes prickling angrily as the memory of her partner dressed in all white came to mind. It was if a dark seed had been planted back during the events of Chat Blanc, one that had been steadily growing ever since, its roots inching across her heart in a slow but unforgiving stranglehold. “I don’t ever want to see Chat Noir akumatized again, Tikki, I don’t think I could bear it.”

“No, even more than Chat Noir,” Tikki insisted, looking guilty but determined to say her piece. “Marinette, you _cannot_ be akumatized. You would not only give up the Ladybug Miraculous, but the Miracle Box as well. Chat Noir wouldn’t stand a chance on his own. I know —” Tikki’s voice wavered. “I know that this puts tremendous pressure on you. I know that this is a very unfair ask. You shouldn’t have to fear feeling pain or sadness, you should be allowed to work through those things at your own pace. But Hawkmoth has shown us time and again that he will not hesitate to take advantage of people, specifically when they are their most vulnerable. We can’t afford to give him that chance. Do you understand?”

Marinette took a deep steadying breath. In, out, then again.

No, don’t hold it. Let it out.

“I understand, Tikki,” she said firmly, taking the remnants of her anger and disappointment from the afternoon and packing them away into neat little boxes to be dealt with at a later time. It left her feeling almost hollow, nearly brittle, but ultimately calm. And, well, calm and empty had to be better than active negativity, right? After all, Hawkmoth always went for the emotional victims, which made sense considering Nooroo’s penchant for empathy. If she couldn’t beat him back with her usual positivity and determination, then she would escape his notice through her indifference instead.

“I understand, I promise,” Marinette echoed more strongly, faced with Tikki’s anxious countenance. “I’m not even that angry or upset anymore. Disappointed, sure, but honestly, I was thinking on the walk over that my jacket wasn’t actually that good to begin with. Maybe it’s for the best that it happened — now I can start fresh in a few months! Plus, the project will be over by then, so I’ll be able to dedicate the time it really deserves.”

“Marinette —“

Pressing a swift kiss to the spot in the middle of Tikki’s forehead, Marinette cut her off. “I appreciate your concern, Tikki, but I’m no easy target for Hawkmoth. I’m Ladybug, remember?” She winked. “Now, I should get going. I don’t want to leave Adrien alone in my room for too much longer.”

Then Marinette paused. “Tikki, I _did_ take down most of his pictures last week, right? I didn’t imagine doing that?”

“No, that was real.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” Marinette said in a rush of relief.

Tikki patted Marinette’s thumb affectionately with a giggle before flying back down into her bag. Grabbing the tray of cleaning materials and snacks, Marinette carefully made her way back upstairs.

The sight that greeted her there made her pause, dumbstruck. Adrien was reclining on the floor, laying smack dab in the space where the afternoon sunlight from her desk window slanted in to meet her rug. He had one arm propping up his head, angled away from the light, as he browsed his phone. The entire long line of his body was limned in white gold.

This wasn’t Adrien posing. This was just — Adrien. Existing in the moment, completely unselfconscious and lacking any sort of artifice.

He was beautiful.

Marinette shook her head so hard, the contents on her tray rattled. “U-um, A-A-Adrien? Why are you lying on the fl-floor?”

Casting her eyes about her room, she suddenly realized to her extreme embarrassment that both her desk chair and her chaise lounge were covered in fabric scraps and bolts, leaving him little choice in seating arrangements.

“Hm?” Adrien put his phone away and stretched, back arching, causing his shirt to ride up a bit; Marinette nearly perished on the spot.

“I’m so sorry!” she cried. “I didn’t realize how messy my room was! I’m so dumb, argh, and after you came here to help me —“

“It’s fine, Marinette. It was actually really nice to lie in the sun,” he replied, patting the floor next to him sleepily in what one could construe as an invitation. To spare her rapidly beating heart, she decided to more or less ignore him and return her focus to her jacket. Depositing the tray on the ground, she then cleared a space on her desk, thinking it a better working surface. She retrieved the jacket and transferred it to its new spot, ready to start drying the damp fabric.

A moment later, Adrien hopped to his feet and came to stand beside her, gently tugging on the paper towels in her hand. “No, please, can I? I feel like I should be the one to do this. I promise I’ll be careful.”

Marinette let him take over, something about his words nagging at the back of her brain. She took a moment to think back. “You said something like that earlier, didn’t you,” she said. Something along the lines of —“That it was the least you could do?”

Adrien’s lashes fluttered darkly over his bright green eyes as he darted his gaze to the side. “Well. Yes. I mean, considering it was my fault, after all.”

“What?”

“ _I_ was the one who opened the soda and sprayed it everywhere.”

“Adrien!” For a moment, Marinette struggled with words. “It’s not your fault at all! You had no idea it would do that.”

“I should have been paying more attention, though. I saw her shaking that bottle, it just didn’t click in my brain until it was too late. I was careless.” Adrien’s jaw visibly clenched as he straightened his back and shoulders. “I’m so sorry, Marinette.”

“Nonono _no_! Please don’t apologize. I was right there too but I didn’t realize either. It wasn’t your fault, Adrien.” Marinette reached up to grab his shoulders. She crept to her tippy-toes to try and meet his eyes, wanting him to look at her so he could know for sure that she meant every word. “It was just an accident on your part.”

“I don’t know how you can compartmentalize like that,” he admitted, looking equal parts guilty and relieved. “I mean, I know I didn’t do it on purpose, but it still led to something horrible happening. I wouldn’t blame you if you were mad at me, even just a little.”

“I’m not mad at _you_ , I promise. If anything, I’m just angrier at Lila for making you an unwilling part of her plan,” Marinette growled.

Adrien blinked at her in surprise, then let out a surprised laugh. “I didn’t think you _could_ be angrier at her,” he teased.

“Me neither,” she replied wryly. “That girl is a constant surprise.”

Chuckling, Adrien switched out the dry towels for the rag, which he dipped into the sudsy water. He applied it in firm, even dabs, making sure to only hit on the affected areas. Marinette watched his hands as he did so, taking in his long fingers and prominent knuckles. His nails were short and perfectly manicured, a byproduct of his modeling, she guessed. A silver ring sat on his right hand, the band thick and relatively plain; not a design she recognized from any past Agreste line but still emblematic of the brand’s overall minimalistic designs. She idly wondered how much it cost.

“I really love this part here,” Adrien said as he worked, pointing at the embroidery on the sleeves. On one cuff, she had painstakingly sewed a line of tooth marks, reminiscent of Fang’s jagged grin. On the other, she’d placed a band of musical measures with various notes.

“Um, t-thank you,” Marinette replied, face heating at the praise. She suddenly felt a bit faint. “But it’s really not that well done. There are a lot of obvious mistakes.”

“Are you crazy?” Adrien asked, brow raised but paired with a soft smile to take the sting out of his question. “Marinette, this jacket is amazing! I would wear the heck out of this, if my father allowed me to dress outside of the brand.”

“I — really?”

He shook his head vigorously. “Absolutely! Maybe with a dark blue t-shirt and some green plaid pants. That would be a sick look, don’t you think?”

“Green plaid pants?” Marinette asked, now feeling faint for a different reason.

“Hm? Something wrong?”

Marinette was struck by a crazy thought then. “Adrien, are you — do you not pick out your own outfits?” she asked.

“Well…” Adrien shrugged and grinned at her sheepishly. “My father usually pre-approves some options for me and then I get to make the final choice from there.” He perked up. “Oh, but the sneakers were my pick! Father wasn’t thrilled with the color I chose, but I insisted.”

Marinette couldn’t help but laugh. In all the years spent crushing on Adrien, her feelings had never accounted for something as ridiculous as him having a weird fashion sense. It filled her with a certain buoyancy, knowing something as small and as silly as this. She wondered if anyone else knew this about him. Nino or Chloé or —

Kagami.

Her laughter died off, leaving her breathless and Adrien chuckling.

Marinette was suddenly struck with a wild and suffocating dread. This wasn’t moving on, she realized. This was falling _deeper_. The entire afternoon was slipping by with a surreal, dream-like quality, making it so easy for her to forget herself. But now it seemed so blatantly obvious that her heart was overstepping again, falling into the same old mistakes and undoing all of her hard-won progress. No, actually it was _worse_ this time, as the last few weeks spent taming her knee-jerk panic in Adrien’s presence now meant they were more connected than ever. It made the prospect of falling for him absolutely terrifying, because it paved the way to a kind of love that she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to leave behind.

“Marinette?” Adrien asked, breaking off her train of thought. “I think I might be done. What do you think?”

“You look really sweet, I forgot you’re so good,” Marinette spat out. Eyes widening, she yelped and covered her traitorous mouth. “I MEAN, IT LOOKS GOOD. And I forgot about your sweets! Ahhh, y’know, your snacks!”

Luckily, Adrien’s attention was caught by the mention of food. His head whipped back to the tray on the floor; she could almost hear the sound effect of his eyes zeroing in on the plate of croissants, cookies, and madeleines.

“Lunch break is just about over, actually,” he said mournfully as he activated his cell phone screen to peek at the clock.

She shrugged and bit her lip. “Then let’s take what we can carry and eat on the way?”

Adrien brightened at her suggestion, scrambling to grab his bag and then squatting down to consider the pile of pastries. Marinette used his moment of preoccupation to draw in a deep breath and try to regain her previous equilibrium. She could do this, these feelings were just another thing she could shut away in a box until she was more equipped to handle them. Feeling a bit steadier, she cast a glance over and found that Adrien had politely taken one of each treat.

“Is that all?” Marinette asked, raising her brow in an open challenge. A slow smile crawled across his face as he reached back to grab another croissant and three more cookies.

“Alright, I’m all set,” he said. “What about you? Ready to head back?”

“Not remotely,” Marinette admitted.

“Together?” Adrien smiled and extended his free hand. Marinette stared at it, waiting for the hallucination to disperse, to snap back to reality, but it never did. She imagined slipping her hand in his, how the warmth of his palm might sink into hers; she imagined walking back to school like that, not as two separate individuals but as one unit. It was the most painful temptation she’d ever faced.

Biting the inside of her cheek to ground herself, Marinette reached out to squeeze his hand just once before releasing her grip.

“Okay, now I’m ready,” she said, and almost meant it.

* * *

“Well, if no one has any further questions on the material, then I will let you go a few minutes early this afternoon,” Mme. Bustier said as she leaned on her podium. “Please remember that if you want me to take a look at your first draft of your project paper, the deadline is the end of next week. Okay? Alright, see you all tomorrow.”

“Hey.”

Marinette stared at her desk as she began to pack up her backpack. She didn’t want to turn to the left to see Alya’s disappointed look or towards the right to see Lila pretend to scurry past her desk in fright. Staring forward and down was the only option she could bear right now.

“Marinette, girl,” Alya said again, placing a light touch on her arm. “Can you please look at me? I promise, I’m not gonna snap or anything.”

The sincerity in Alya’s voice rang true in Marinette’s ears, so she chanced a glance. Her best friend looked sad and confused, not mad like she had initially feared, and her face cleared into a small smile when Marinette’s eyes rose to meet hers.

“How are you holding up?” Alya asked. “Were you able to do anything about the stains?”

“I don’t know yet,” Marinette said, fingers twitching. Having expected an argument, Alya’s kindness and empathy in this moment were throwing her off guard, making her feel unbalanced. “We followed some online instructions but I won’t know till I get back if they worked.”

Mouth pursing, Alya nodded. “Can you keep me posted? I’m sorry that happened, I know how excited you were about that project.”

“Y-yeah, I will. Thanks.”

“And about Lila,” Alya continued, sending a spark of alarm up the length of Marinette’s spine. “Look — I can’t help but think some of this is my fault. I know you two don’t get along but then you seemed so chill during lunch. I guess I got my hopes up that maybe you were growing out of your grudge.”

Impassioned words clawed their way down from her brain to sit in waiting on her tongue. Marinette took care to swallow them down, landing them in the pit of her stomach. After all, this was Alya trying to be conciliatory, she reminded herself. She was trying to acknowledge Marinette’s feelings as she understood them.

“I really don’t like spending time with her,” Marinette said stiffly. “Even if I’m acting ‘chill,’ it doesn’t mean I’m having a good time, it just means I don’t want to cause trouble.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Alya said. “I wanted to be able to hang out with my friends all at once without it being a big deal, but me trying to make that happen without your okay was pretty rude on my part. I just — I wish you could see you two the way I do, because honestly, I think you guys are pretty similar. You both have accomplished so much so young, it’s a shame you can’t get along and share that with each other.”

Marinette’s stomach roiled. “Alya, we’re _nothing_ alike. I’ve told you so many times: Lila isn’t accomplished, she’s a liar.”

Alya shook her head sharply. “You know, I’m really sick of having this argument.”

“Then maybe we just shouldn’t have it,” Marinette replied, exhausted.

“Fine,” Alya said, voice tinged with both frustration and regret. “But my apology for lunch still stands, Marinette. I’m sorry. And I’m sorry that I just made you more upset, that wasn’t my intention.”

“It’s okay,” Marinette said, smiling wanly.

“Hey, guys.” Adrien rapped his knuckles on her desk and gave a little wave. “Sorry to interrupt, but my fencing practice got cancelled this afternoon. I wondered if I could hang at the bakery for a few minutes before the Gorilla comes to pick me up? I’m curious to see how the jacket turned out, too.”

“S-sure!” Marinette squeaked, both elated and heart-sore at the thought of spending more time with him. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Alya watching their conversation with what Marinette personally deemed her ‘investigative’ face. The three of them began to gather their things.

“I’m sorry but I need to speak with Marinette before she goes. Marinette, can you please stay after for a few minutes?” Mme. Bustier called from the front of the room.

“Oh, um, sure,” Marinette said. She shared a slight shrug with Alya and Adrien, gesturing for them to go on ahead without waiting.

“Is this something to do with tomorrow’s class activity?” she asked once they had left.

The look on Mme. Bustier’s face was hard to parse, the line of her mouth unusually tense. Caline gave a little sigh and folded her hands together, seeming torn. “Actually, Marinette, this is a conversation we need to have with Principal Damocles. Can you please follow me to his office?”

* * *

“Please take a seat, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng,” Damocles said when they arrived. He gestured politely to the chairs in front of his desk, though the rest of his expression and body language bore a grim facade.

“Marinette, we’d like to address what happened at lunch,” Mme. Bustier started as soon as Marinette nervously perched on one of the open seats. “We received a report today that you and Lila got into a heated disagreement this afternoon. And that at one point, it turned physical. Is this true?”

“I — yes, we argued,” Marinette explained, biting her lip nervously, feeling ashamed. “I was really upset. I know I shouldn’t have pushed her but she got into my personal space and tried to antagonize me. I was planning to apologize.”

“Be that as it may, Marinette, you _know_ that violence is not how we solve things at this school.”

Dropping her head in contrition, Marinette nodded. “I’m sorry,” she said, voice shaking. “I promise I _will_ apologize to Lila. It’s just — she purposely ruined a personal project that I worked really hard on. I know that’s no excuse, but…”

“Do you have proof that Lila’s actions were done on purpose?” Caline asked gently.

“Proof? I mean, not like hard evidence. But she came over right when I pulled my design out and then she had this soda bottle. She kept shaking it while we were all talking and it exploded everywhere…” Marinette started to feel the edges of panic creep in; the more she spoke aloud, the crazier it sounded even though she knew it was the truth. The unchanging expressions on Bustier and Damocles’ faces made the panic begin to blossom and bloom. “She - she’s always been out to make my life miserable, I just know it was her.”

“The accounts we heard stipulate it was an accident,” Damocles said. “And that the soda bottle was opened not by Mlle. Rossi but by your other classmate, M. Agreste.”

Marinette’s hands clenched into fists on her lap. “No! Well, yes, technically, but it was Lila’s soda bottle, not Adrien’s! She planted it on him so it would look like she was uninvolved!”

“Marinette…” Caline said sympathetically.

“Lila is a liar!” Marinette yelled, so upset that all of the rational arguments in her head kept getting jumbled, coming out in the worst way possible when moving from her brain to her mouth. She knew she wasn’t articulating herself well, that pure emotion was driving her to a state that didn’t look good, no matter how justified — but it was a descent into rage that she couldn’t seem to stop.

“Marinette —” Caline tried again.

“No!” she yelled, suddenly so tired of being placated, of being told to pull back. Repress, repress, repress. “You both know she is! If you want to attribute it to that fake lying-disease that she made up all those years ago, then fine, but you can’t pretend you don’t know what she’s really doing -“

“You are quite out of line, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng!” Damocles blustered, half-rising from his seat. “If you don’t curtail your argumentative behavior right this second, I just might have to expand my punishment to include suspension time!”

“Suspension?” Marinette gaped, having a hard time comprehending. “For - for what? Sir, I’ve told you what happened during the disagreement at lunch. All I did was push her to get her away from me, she tripped and fell on her own! You- you can’t possibly take Lila’s report over mine without further investigation!”

“Don’t you question my methods, young lady!” Damocles said, shaking his finger in consternation. “You cannot fool the illustrious Owl of Justice!”

“Marinette,” Caline interrupted, loud enough to finally cut through. “Lila wasn’t the one to come to us, I’m afraid. This report was actually given by several students in different classes.”

“What?” Marinette whispered, a pool of sick disbelief simmering in the pit of her stomach.

“Ah, so now you can understand our true concerns, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng,” Principal Damocles said, aggrieved, as he sat back down. “Your poor behavior today has had a rippling effect on our school that transcends the boundaries of your classroom. Now, I think we can all agree that if a class representative has lost the faith of his or her student body, then that that representative can no longer be considered an effective leader. He or she should therefore be removed to make way for someone who can properly uphold the title and do the position justice.”

Marinette’s jaw dropped, speechless.

“Sir,” Caline said, looking taken aback herself. “While I understand the seriousness of the concerns raised by some of the student body, I must say that Marinette has acted as an admirable class representative for several years now, oftentimes going above and beyond to provide her classroom with positive and educational experiences. Surely we might let her go with a warning this time?”

“No, no warnings!” Damocles banged his fist down on his desk. “The student body has spoken and I would be remiss if I did not listen, especially when I am already aware of the personal drama between Mlle. Dupain-Cheng and Mlle. Rossi.”

“But Principal Damocles,” Marinette started, unable to keep the bite from her tone.

“Not another word, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng,” Damocles said with a firm shake of his head. “Or I really will place you on suspension. My decision to remove you as your class’s representative is final. Mme. Bustier, please host an expedited election next week, I’d like the position to be filled quickly so as not to disrupt your classroom unduly. Mlle. Dupain-Cheng, I implore you to reflect on your conduct today, both in the courtyard and in my office. Please know I _will_ be keeping an eye on you. Now, dismissed.”

Caline sighed, then nodded. “Understood, sir.” She placed a light hand on Marinette’s back and began guiding her out of Damocles’ office.

“Mme. Bustier, _you_ believe me, don’t you?” Marinette asked desolately once they closed the door behind them, shaking hands going to her purse strap and twisting it in a white knuckled grip.

“I believe you when you say you didn’t mean to get physical,” Caline said, expression kind. “But you _did_ , Marinette, and regardless of the reason, I can’t say I’m not glad that this was brought to my attention. I don’t personally agree with Principal Damocles’ punishment, because I think a warning would have sufficed for someone with an otherwise sterling reputation like yours. But I can’t say I don’t understand where he’s coming from.”

“Oh,” Marinette said. She meant to say more but that was honestly the only response she could muster right at the moment.

“I’m sorry, Marinette,” Caline said. “Are you going to be okay, walking home now? Do you need me to sit with you a while first?”

“I — no, Mme. Bustier. Thanks, though,” Marinette said. Her own words sounded far off as the loud thundering of her heart echoed in the chamber of her chest. A low-level buzz gathered at the back of her head, making everything feel muted and fuzzy. She barely noticed as her teacher left.

The whole conversation started replaying in her head and despite her best attempts to calm herself, push it back down, she couldn’t help but obsess over every poorly worded phrase, every missed opportunity she’d had to make her case. Her brain mercilessly fixated on all the things she should have said that would have been better — more convincing, more persuasive, more powerful.

All those years of hard work in her position, suddenly gone in the span of one bad afternoon.

It just wasn’t _fair_.

“Marinette, are you okay? What happened?” She knew that voice. She knew it, but she didn’t want to face it. It hurt too much to think about him and she was so tired of feeling this way —

Overwhelmed, Marinette closed her eyes and tried to reach inside to center herself. But the neat compartments she’d accessed earlier today were gone, her emotions now strewn everywhere in a chaotic mess. They went so deep, Marinette was actually afraid to follow them down and see where they led.

“ _Marinette_?” 

“A-Adrien?”

Forcing her eyes open, she found him kneeling beside her. He had one hand hovering above her shoulder, face uncertain as if wondering if he should touch her. She didn’t know either if she wanted him to. Behind him, she could just make out his bag laying haphazardly on the ground a fair bit away. He must have dropped it to run to her side, her brain realized slowly.

“What happened? Were you in Damocles’ office?” he asked in concern. “What did he say?”

Marinette winced. “Um, apparently… because of that fight with Lila earlier, I’m being removed as class rep.”

He stared at her, aghast. “What?”

“Yeah. Effective immediately,” Marinette said, the shock draining away the more she spoke the words aloud. Suddenly, the injustice of it all _burned_.

Her heart began to roar.

* * *

Some distance away, though not as far off as some might think, Hawkmoth stood in a veritable vortex of butterflies. He watched them with a slow, vicious malice as they fluttered about the chamber, their pure white wings glowing eerily in the sunlight — all but one. A manic grin pulled at the corners of his mouth as a powerful burst of despair tugged at his enhanced senses

“Ah, the one who got away,” Hawkmoth laughed. “Yes, you’ve eluded me time and again, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng. Quite a feat for someone so young. But it seems your time is up now. Let’s see what great things we can accomplish, shall we?

“Fly away, my little akuma —“

* * *

Adrien was truly at a loss for words.

Marinette had lost her class rep position?

“They — he — can they do that?” he sputtered, outraged. His head whipped up to glare daggers at Damocles’ office door, his frustration nearly a tangible thing in the tight clench of his hands.

“Yes,” Marinette said simply, eyes teary but furious.

“I’ll go talk to Mme. Bustier, there’s got to be some way to change his mind,” Adrien insisted.

“No, it’s no use. He didn’t believe me about Lila, just chalked it up to a personal grudge like everyone else I know,” Marinette said with a frustrated groan. Adrien ached to argue that last bit — _not me, I believe you_ , his heart cried — but he didn’t want to interrupt her when she already looked so miserable.

“And somehow she got people from other classes to report me, so her hands are as clean as a whistle. It’s - it’s over.” Marinette hugged her stomach and dropped to the balls of her feet, looking so small in that moment, Adrien couldn’t even bear it. He ran a rough hand through his hair and exhaled hard, suddenly feeling seven kinds of stupid for ever believing Lila would keep her side of the bargain.

At the time, he’d thought that his quid pro quo offer would be the best temptation for Lila, figuring her to be an economist at heart. But it was clear to him now that he had deeply miscalculated by failing to take Lila’s ego into consideration as well. She’d probably never intended to leave Marinette alone, despite whatever arrangement they’d struck. After all, Marinette was the only person to openly defy her; Lila’s pride could never let that lie.

“Marinette, I’m so sorry,” Adrien said helplessly. She drew in a sharp, wet breath, but otherwise didn’t respond.

“ _Adrien! An akuma_!” A raspy voice warned — Plagg must have left his spot in Adrien’s book bag and snuck into his shirt at some point. It took a long second for the kwami’s words to coalesce in his brain, but when they did, Adrien jolted like he had been shocked. His eyes veered wildly as he searched the open air and sure enough, he found it easily, a dark speck beating a frenetic path across the courtyard. Headed their way.

“Okay, time to go!” he exclaimed in a panicked shout, reaching down to grab one of her arms and tug her back to her feet. She gave a surprised cry, stumbling over herself a bit as he started running while dragging her behind.

“W-what?”

“There’s an akuma coming for us!” Adrien panted. He knew in his gut, despite how upset he felt, that the akuma was here for Marinette, not him. For a moment, he debated sending her ahead, so he could get the space he needed to find shelter. Then he could transform and give Ladybug the purple alert, have her swoop in and save the day, make everything okay again somehow —

He glanced back quickly but couldn’t see the purple butterfly anymore. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? Impulsively, he dragged them both into the next classroom they came across, which was thankfully empty.

As soon as the door was shut, Adrien pulled her close, unable to bear even the thought of leaving her exposed to danger. She folded into his arms for a moment, a pliant warmth leaning on his heaving chest, before something seemed to go wrong and she pushed away from his hold.

“Marinette,” he hissed, trying to draw her back into his protective grasp. He needed that peace of mind while he tried to figure out the next step and regain his breath a bit. Should they continue to run for it? Ah, but no, the akuma was tracking them by negative emotions, wasn’t it? Then it probably wouldn’t go away on its own, not unless another more interesting target made itself known. Adrien didn’t consider himself that lucky, not even with Marinette’s charm in his pocket.

“Adrien, let go,” Marinette muttered, still trying to weakly pull away.

He let her take a step back before saying, “Marinette, we’ve either got to get out of here or calm you down.” Adrien grimaced at how that callous that sounded. “I mean — is there any way I can cheer you up or comfort you somehow?”

How? How was he so bad at this?

The look Marinette shot him then was heartbreaking, an expression of desperate longing on her face that he didn’t understand but wanted to. In that same moment though, Adrien could see out of the corner of his eye as the akuma phased through the backdoor. It paused, gained its bearings, then started fluttering after them, undeterred.

“Run, Marinette!” Adrien yelled. “Maybe I can distract it!”

“No, don’t!” Marinette grabbed his shirt desperately and pulled them down the steps and towards the windows, away from the akuma but also away from the exit. Buying them a minute at most. Shocked, Adrien watched as his friend deflated into herself, looking utterly resigned.

“You’re not even going to try?” Panic and dread brought a bite to his voice that he instantly regretted, though Marinette barely seemed to notice.

“I can’t push off the bad feelings this time,” she replied with a halfhearted smile, looking bleak as she brought up her hands to fiddle at her ears.

_This time?_

“Marinette —“

“Adrien, this is important. Please listen.”

She took a deep breath.

“Take these. Find Chat Noir,” she said. His gaze, fixed on the plain black earrings in his palm, snapped back to her face with a slow dawning horror. “Give him my earrings. And — Adrien, I’m so sorry, I don’t have time to explain, but — there’s a purple trunk in my room. It’s got a wooden box inside, under some presents. You need to tell Chat Noir where to find it. _Please_ ,” she said.

“M-Marinette —“ Adrien stuttered, heart in his throat, bloody and raw. “No, I—“

The Akuma drifted towards her purse. He knew they were out of time. Quickly, eyes squeezed shut, Marinette let the words tumble out in a rush: “I relinquish the Miracle Box and name Chat Noir the new Guardian!”

“NO,” Adrien yelled, lurching forward to grab her by the shoulders. “No, don’t do this, Marinette!Marinette! _Ladyb_ -“

“Adrien,” Plagg hissed from his shirt pocket. “Don’t — look, he’s talking to her. You’ve got to get out of here and transform!”

“I-I can’t leave, she needs —“

“ADRIEN,” he whisper-shouted, his tiny paws jabbing into Adrien’s chest. “NOW.”

Adrien dashed to the door, only allowing himself one last look back. And what he saw he knew would haunt his dreams for the rest of his life: Marinette’s prone form kneeling in the front of the classroom, face down but hints of a purple butterfly outline partially visible from his vantage point, shoulders slumped and arms limp at her sides - like all the fight, all the spirit and passion that he loved in her so much, had just vanished like it never even existed. This was the picture of Marinette hopeless. Of Ladybug defeated.

Adrien thought he might throw up.

“Move, kid!” Plagg said, breaking the spell just enough to get Adrien out the door and into the courtyard. It seemed quiet on campus, devoid of its usual energy and bustle, and his rushed footsteps echoed ominously in the silence. Brain on autopilot, Adrien rushed to the boys bathroom in the locker room and threw himself into an open stall. He ducked down, quickly checking the floor of the neighboring stalls to see if anyone else was around, then hopped back up and punched the air with his fist.

“Plagg, claws ou—“

“Woah, wait, Adrien!”

“What the hell, Plagg,” Adrien growled, eyes wet and chest heaving. His heart _burned_. For once, instead of feeling like a hero of justice, he felt like he was destruction incarnate, barely leashed and ready to pounce. Like chaos bubbling to the surface, dark and ugly, ready to destroy everything in his wake.

His kwami flew agitated circles around his other hand, bringing Adrien’s attention to a throbbing pain in his left palm. “Aren’t you forgetting a key detail here?”

His white fingers unclenched and revealed Marinette’s studs, which had broken skin in his mad grip. He stared blankly at the Ladybug Miraculous, frozen again.

“Look, I know this is tough for you. This is certainly not what I wanted for either of you or my Sugarcube.” Plagg sighed. “But Pigtails gave these to you in good faith to make sure that Chat Noir had what he needed to save the day. You need to put these on and live up to those expectations.”

Even the thought of putting on her Miraculous felt like an acknowledgment of something Adrien wanted very much to ignore. Voice hoarse, he replied, “Plagg — I-I don’t know if I can.”

“Oh?” Plagg asked, voice cold and hard like steel. “Are you going to dishonor me, Adrien? After Fu and I chose _you_ , out of all others, to be the wielder of the Black Cat Miraculous?”

“I—“

“And what about Marinette? Was her faith in you misplaced?”

Eyes slipping shut, Adrien recalled an evening patrol not that long ago, the end of which had the two of them taking a moment’s rest on a random Parisian roof. He had slunk back to lean against a well-placed chimney while she stayed near the edge, surveying their surroundings. It gave him the perfect opportunity to take in the strong silhouette of his Ladybug, backlit by the burgeoning glow of the rising moon. Shoulders back, head held high, and piercing gaze focused on the city she protected, she probably never even noticed his awestruck stare. At least, not until she turned around to face him, her serious expression melting away into a sweet smile that felt, in that moment, to be the reason and purpose of his entire life.

“Chaton,” she had said, in a rare moment of playful affection. He’d waited for her to continue, maybe tease him about losing steam or being lazy, but nothing more ever came. Just that one _chaton_. Just that.

Adrien slipped the earrings on and grimly met Plagg’s unwavering gaze. A red kwami silently joined them, tiny mouth pursed and tail feathers drooping. But the look in her eyes — there was fire there. A reminder that creation left unchecked was every bit as dangerous as destruction itself.

The three of them took a collective breath. Then, Adrien spoke.

“Let’s do this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your kind words, kudos, and support. I can't believe I'm almost at the halfway point of this story, that's crazy to me. I hope you continue to follow along and enjoy.


	5. the fight for justice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Princess Justice ascends the throne. Adrien decides he needs some help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for how long it took me to post this chapter! Akuma scenes are rough, my deepest admiration for those of you who write them on the regular! 
> 
> Thank you so much for all of your kinds words and kudos. I appreciate them more than words can say.

Princess Justice emerged from the classroom at Françoise Dupont school, floating in the air as she took stock of her surroundings. The building was mostly empty and quiet, except for the chatter coming from the lower level outside. People dressed in white were just starting to congregate in the open space, chatting lightly as they armed themselves with curiously flexible and seemingly useless weapons. 

The all-white uniforms made something twinge inside her, a leftover ache from a long forgotten memory. Princess Justice drew her shoulders back and ascended to the railing, poised to make her entrance.

It took a moment for the humans below to take notice. When they did, several panicked and tried to run, scattering across the grounds. 

Chaos. 

Lawlessness. 

It disgusted her. 

It was time to get to work.

* * *

Adrien drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes, unable to bear watching this firsthand. “Tikki,” he said shakily. “Spots on.” Even behind his eyelids, the flash of his transformation shone brightly, every nerve in his body prickling as Tikki’s presence settled over him like a second skin. 

“Looking…very red, kid.”

Mister Bug slowly rotated, casting a critical eye over his suit. Nothing had changed since he’d last transformed with the Ladybug Miraculous. But he felt none of that first-time delight or excitement now, only a growing sense of unease at seeing himself adorned in her colors. To distract himself, he slid his ring back onto his usual finger, the metal going loose and malleable for a moment before resizing to accommodate his gloves. He stared down intently at the Black Cat Miraculous for a long moment, gaze wondering.

“I don’t like that look on your face,” Plagg said in a sharp tone, abruptly breaking him out of his thoughts. “You better not be thinking what I think you might be thinking.”

“...No,” Mister Bug said, sighing heavily. “I wouldn’t do that. That’s just not who I am, no matter how much I want her back. She would never forgive me if I did.”

“A good answer.” Plagg nodded, a satisfied gleam in his eye, as if Adrien had passed some sort of test he’d never known about. He then asked, “You ready to go?” 

“Yes,” Mister Bug said with a nod, heart thundering.

“Better get a move on then,” Plagg replied. “I hear her down in the courtyard and it -- it doesn’t sound good.”

In lieu of answering, Mister Bug took a deep, steadying breath and squared his shoulders. He then burst out of the school bathroom right onto the second level walkway, using his forward momentum to vault himself over the walkway railing and land on the pavement. The impact of the landing started in his feet and reverberated up past his knees and into the meat of his thighs. His gaze reluctantly rose as he did, lungs constricting painfully as he took in the handful of eerie stone statues standing around the courtyard. Finally, he spotted her.

Marinette — no, the akuma — the akuma stood eerily still underneath the basketball net, a slight figure with pale purple skin and lips the color of a deep bruise. The trademark pigtails were gone, leaving her dark hair down and loose, blowing around her face, the upper half of which was wrapped in a stark white blindfold. The top of her head was adorned with an ornate crown, a set of golden scales sprouting from its peak. 

She wore a sleeveless dress, which bore a distinctive Mandarin collar and a single sided straight slanted front with white butterfly clasps. At her waist, the skirt broke away from the Chinese qipao style and fell to the ground in disparate pieces of varying length, each one a slightly different shade of pink.

“You are not Ladybug,” the akuma said with a slow tilt of her head as she sized him up. Despite her head moving, the scales on either side of her face eerily kept their equilibrium. 

The bright purple lines of a butterfly flickered to life over her blindfold. “No,” she replied to an unheard demand from Hawkmoth. “Ladybug is not here. Only this one.” 

“Mister Bug,” he said, hoping that the name might spark some sort of memory or awareness from her — unfortunately to no avail. “I’m not here to fight you, I’m here to help you.” 

He deliberately left his yo-yo wrapped around his waist, taking slow careful steps forward with his hands raised and open. He heard Plagg hissing from somewhere behind him but paid him no mind as he advanced.

“What has happened to Ladybug?” she demanded.

Wincing and trying to hide it, Mister Bug replied, “She’s…out of town. But she’s left Paris in good hands. See?” He shook both of his palms in a dorky wave, trying hard to project a relaxed levity he did not feel.

The akuma’s impassive features barely twitched. The only thing that reacted was the outline of the butterfly; it flared intensely for a moment, before sputtering like a bad signal and vanishing completely.

“Hawkmoth is not pleased,” she said. “He has demanded that I take the Ladybug Miraculous from you and then do whatever it takes until you tell me the location of the Black Cat Miraculous as well.” Then she shook her head. “But I disagreed. That is not how justice works.”

“Justice?” Even akumatized, apparently all Marinette wanted was fairness for herself and others. It made Adrien’s heart hurt. “Marinette —”

“Who?” she asked, unconcerned. “Do not mistake me for your friend, whoever she may be. Do you see the crown that sits upon my head? I am the arbiter of justice itself; the heir to its throne. Perhaps you need a demonstration?”

Princess Justice stepped forward, reaching forward to place a pale purple palm on the chest plate of his Mister Bug suit. Dumbstruck, he allowed her close, unable to bear pushing her away.

“Your heart is pure,” Princess Justice decided after a moment, the elaborate crown on her head creaking as the scales began to move, the right-hand side dipping down. “Yes, you are just. I have no issue with you.”

In a flash, faster than Mister Bug expected, she floated over to the other side of the courtyard, grasping the arm of a terrified boy who had tried to make a run for it; Adrien vaguely recognized him as being in the year above them.

“But _you_ ,” Princess Justice said with a downward curl of her lip. The boy fought in her hold but she detained him easily, showcasing a superhuman strength. Her scales let out a high pitch screech as they slowly tilted to the left. A sick feeling gathered in the pit of his stomach; Mister Bug sprinted forward to try and intervene. “I sense much discord in you. Bullying your friend online with a secret account? How unjust. Absolutely revolting. It is time you faced your judgment.”

“No!” Mister Bug cried out, unhooking his yo-yo and lassoing it around her arm, breaking her grip. 

Ignoring him, the akuma simply raised her other hand and blew a glittery powder at the boy’s feet. Mister Bug watched in horror as a grey stone encased the boy’s sneakers, a loud crackling noise slicing through the air as the stone moved and grew up past his shins, over his knees, creeping up to his waist. The boy yelped in panic.

“Stop it!” Mister Bug yelled.

“Stay out of my way,” Princess Justice declared coldly, using the yo-yo string around her arm to pull him towards her. Right before they collided, she struck with the palm of her hand to send him flying across the blacktop. The crackling sound grew louder for a few seconds, then stopped altogether, leaving the boy a statue that Mister Bug could not bring himself to look at. 

She propelled herself up into the air and began to float away. “If you are truly just, Mister Bug, you will wait here and leave me to do my work. I will come back for your Miraculous at the end.”

A beat or two passed. Once the coast was clear, Plagg appeared from behind a column, staring down at his prone form. He sighed. “You okay, kid?”

“No,” Mister Bug muttered, his tailbone and shoulders aching despite his suit. For one single moment, Adrien imagined not getting back up; he imagined handing over the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculous to someone else to save the day, preferably while he went to hide in Marinette’s room until this entire nightmare was over. He imagined himself back in that sunny patch on her floor, content and lazy and so warm, just waiting for her to join him — but only for a moment.

Mister Bug grimaced and leveraged himself off the ground. He drew his arms up in a defensive pose but a quick visual sweep of the yard confirmed he was now alone.

“I guess you can’t sit this one out after all, Plagg,” he said.

“I suppose if I must,” Plagg replied in a drawl.

* * *

Mister Bug surveyed the street from his perch on the roof of Françoise Dupont, waiting. Every cell in his body vibrated with anticipation, itching to get a move on and resolve this once and for all.

“You sure about this, Adrien?” Plagg asked, though his voice conveyed no doubt, just determination.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Mister Bug replied, hand clenching tightly around his Miraculous. “You better take care of her, Plagg.”

The kwami of destruction scoffed. “Who do you think you’re talking to?”

It was an odd moment for humor but it did serve to lighten the tension, just the tiniest bit. Unbidden, Mister Bug let a small smile show. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

“Psh. Enough with your disrespect. Just keep an eye out for your target.”

Though he was missing his usual Chat Noir ears in his current form, there was still a curious phantom sensation of them perking up at the sound of a high-end car pulling up to the front. 

Finally.

He bided his time till the car drove away, leaving only one person — Kagami — standing at the entrance. The wait nearly killed him. With one hard push, he propelled himself off the roof and landed on the sidewalk below, coming very close to knocking Kagami over. Her beautiful face kept its usual impassive stare, but he could tell he’d startled her by the subtle tensing of her mouth and the way her right hand had gone to her hip as if to ready her saber.

“Kagami Tsurugi. I can’t spare much time to explain,” Mister Bug said, presenting her with his upturned palm, and with it, his ring, “but this is the Black Cat Miraculous, normally wielded by me — Chat Noir. Unfortunate circumstances…have dictated that I take over the Ladybug Miraculous for today’s akuma, which leaves me without a partner. I need your help. Will you fight?”

Kagami stared at him intently for a long moment, expression grave. “But what has happened to —“

Stomach roiling, Mister Bug shook his head vehemently and cut her off. “No, no time. Ladybug’s whereabouts are top secret, not to be shared. Right now, I just need to know if you will accept this responsibility.”

“I accept,” Kagami said, spine and shoulders straightening at his urgent tone. “I will do whatever I can to help.”

Mister Bug suddenly felt like he could breathe a bit more easily. “Thank you, Kagami. I knew you would be the right choice. Once the battle has finished, you must immediately give the Miraculous back to me. Do you understand?”

“I understand,” Kagami said. She reached out and grabbed the ring with a sure hand, Plagg rematerializing as she slid the Miraculous onto her middle finger.

“This is Plagg, your kwami for today. His transformation phrase is ‘Claws out,’” Mister Bug said. 

“Claws out?” Kagami repeated.

Mister Bug nodded curtly, then with not an inconsiderable amount of unease watched as someone else merged with his kwami. Kagami emerged from a blitz of black energy edged with neon green, assembled in a black leather outfit that was vaguely reminiscent of Chat Noir’s; the biggest differences were her top, which bore the high collar and criss-cross quilted look from her favorite fencing uniform, and her black porcelain mask, carved in the shape of a cat face with white and green markings. It covered the majority of her face, leaving only her lips and jaw visible. Curiously, she bore two tails of twisted black fabric in the back instead of one and her staff hung from the side of her waist. 

They both took a moment to examine her new look. 

Kagami nodded once, perfunctorily, her twin tails swishing behind her. “For the purposes of this fight, you can call me Nekomata.”

“Sounds good, Neko-chan,” Mister Bug said, his nerd heart unable to resist. Kagami glared at him in response, the ornate black mask making the look feel ten times as ominous. It drained the amusement from him in a nanosecond, drawing his focus back on the mission at hand.

“I think I should warn you,” he said. “The akuma victim this time is someone you and I both know.”

“Who?” 

He hesitated, the name trapped in his mouth. He took a deep breath and forced himself to say it. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Nekomata’s eyes narrowed, her slit irises giving her expression a nearly feral edge. Tension coiled in her clenched fists and slightly bent knees. “Then there isn’t any time to waste,” she said, voice sharp but determined. He admired the sheer strength she exuded, more than enough to steady his own resolve. “Which direction did she go?”

“Downtown,” he said, uncoiling his yo-yo from his hip and beginning to swing it. “I’ll show you which direction. Just make sure to keep up.” With an eager arm, he cast his weapon around the roof of the school and used it as a vantage point to leap into the sky. A black blur in the periphery of his vision told him not only was Kagami keeping pace, she was close to pulling ahead. It hadn’t taken her long to get used to the feel of the Black Cat, apparently. Good.

“What are we up against?” Nekomata asked as they maneuvered from building to building. “Do you know what her powers are?”

“She calls herself Princess Justice,” Mister Bug replied. “She’s fast. Strong. Wears a blindfold, but don’t let that fool you into thinking she can’t see what’s going on around her. She also wears a crown that seems to function as a scale. She performs what she calls ‘judgments’ where she touches a person and the scales will fall one way or the other — just or unjust. If the person is just, she leaves them be.”

“And if they are unjust?”

“They turn to stone,” he said grimly. “Bit by bit from the feet up.”

“Oh,” she said, grimacing.

“Yeah, it’s not pretty.”

“So she is casting judgment but is otherwise nonviolent?”

“Yes, she’s pretty calm for an akuma. Hopefully that will work in our favor. I-I don’t want to hurt her, if we can avoid it.”

“You seem quite affected,” Nekomata said tentatively, causing him to wince. “I didn’t realize you were so close with Marinette.”

“We’re friends. I, ah, visit her occasionally,” he lied.

“I see.”

 _No, you don’t_ , he thought, despair a heavy, tangible thing sinking down the ladder of his spine. I _didn’t even see and she was right in front of me this whole time_.

He inhaled briskly, filling his chest with empty air as he tried to mentally shake away his morose mood. There was no time to dwell, no time to rest, not even for a second, not while she was still out there akumatized, existing as a poor mockery of her wonderful, beautiful self.

Mister Bug and Nekomata landed on top of the Arc de Triomphe. Down below in the plaza, there were several stone statues — unfortunate citizens who had not escaped a brush with justice unscathed. In the far corner, Princess Justice floated, almost as still as the victims she left in her wake. His heart beat a painful rhythm under his ladybug patterned armor. 

“That must be her,” Nekomata stated, leather creaking as she opened and closed her clawed hands, her baton extended and held to the side like a fencing saber at rest.

Mister Bug’s cheek twitched, his lungs twisting up. “Yes. That’s her.”

“On your mark.” Nekomata shrugged, her two tails lashing in anticipation behind her.

Mister Bug hesitated, the dread seeping into his veins, impossible to ignore. He gripped his yo-yo in his palm, arm tensed to throw it in the air and summon a lucky-charm, try to end this early. 

The voice of his lady whispered in his ear, _Too soon…save it…_ Gritting his teeth, he reluctantly reeled it back in and reattached it to his hip. Instead, he launched himself from the top of the Arc, using the momentum from his fall to propel himself forward as soon as he touched the plaza cobblestone. 

Like a ghost, Princess Justice silently but swiftly dodged his tackle, her long-flowing skirt barely ruffling as she moved. Nekomata followed a second behind and tried to intercept her on the other side but the akuma jumped up high and slipped just out of reach. She hovered in the air for a moment before dropping back to the ground on the other side of the plaza. Mister Bug sent a healthy length of yo-yo string after her but she continued to dance out of range; as she moved, he caught a glimpse of a white side pouch tied to her hip that had been previously hidden in the folds of her skirt. 

“Do you see that pouch?” he hissed to Nekomata. “I think that’s where her powder comes from, the stuff that turns people to stone. I think it also holds the akuma. It’s kind of like Marinette’s purse.”

“Understood,” Nekomata replied right before throwing herself into the fray, baton raised. Mister Bug fought back the impulse to throw himself in front of his lady, like he always did, and instead fell back to provide long-range support. Kagami was well-matched with the Black Cat Miraculous, using the enhanced speed and flexibility to boost her natural talents at sparring. Quick-footed and calm, she cornered Princess Justice closer to the Arc, throwing out a barrage of quick jabs with his — _her_ — baton while Mister Bug corralled her movements with well-placed throws of his yo-yo. 

The tide quickly turned though when Princess Justice reached out and grabbed the baton in one perfectly executed move.

“How disappointing.” Princess Justice said to Mister Bug with a sigh. “I spared you earlier, thinking you to be on the side of justice. But instead, you chose to add to the chaos in this despicable city. And it seems you have invited a friend to join you in your lawlessness.” She used her grasp on the staff to disrupt Nekomata’s momentum, pulling her off-balance before tossing her like a ragdoll back towards Mister Bug.

“Please. Please don’t do this,” Mister Bug begged, eyes locked on her. 

“Do what?” Princess Justice asked curiously.

“Don’t make me fight you,” he said, voice breaking. “Don’t — it’s always been you and me against the world, don’t you remember?”

Princess Justice laughed softly. “What is this? Such underhanded lies and tricks. And you call yourself a hero of justice?”

“I —“ Adrien faltered, tears escaping unnoticed down the interior of his mask. “It’s not a lie or a trick. It’s the truth. You and me against the world. That’s not ever going to change. _Ever_.”

“You insist on maintaining this deception?” Princess Justice smiled slightly, a cruel expression made even crueler by her eyes hidden behind her blindfold. She lifted one violet-tinted fist, a bit of the glittery powder slipping through her clenched fingers. “In that case, why not step closer and face your true judgment, hm?”

Mister Bug lurched forward, ready to show her the truth of his heart again if it would get all this to _stop_ somehow, but a silver baton extended in front of him, cutting off his path.

“Are you mad?” Nekomata hissed as she got to her feet, expression furious. “What exactly do you think that will accomplish? Who will save her if you are turned to stone?”

“Right. Right,” Mister Bug said, panting. “You’re — you’re right, I just can’t — _think._ ” 

Princess Justice slowly lowered her hand. “No? Then it seems we are at an impasse. And it seems I have otherwise completed my purpose here,” she said, surveying her work. Besides Mister Bug and Nekomata, every other person in the plaza had either run away or turned to stone. The expressions on their faces, while not pained, showed a panic that was hard to stomach. Mister Bug grimaced, turning his head away. 

“I do not wish to waste any further time on you two. I must move on,” Princess Justice continued, drawing her arms together as her body lifted up and away, towards the Seine. He tried to lasso her back down but the yo-yo missed her ankle and instead caught one of the longer pieces of her skirt, slipping around the silk fabric uselessly. 

Nekomata turned to Mister Bug, eyes burning and mouth unamused. “You need to pull yourself together,” she snapped. 

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” he replied, feeling weak and ashamed. 

“I understand loving Marinette,” Nekomata said, her tone gentling. “She is very easy to love. However, we must let that attachment become our strength here, not our weakness. Understood?”

Breathing deeply, Mister Bug nodded. “You’re absolutely right. I’m sorry, I’m ready this time. I promise.”

Nekomata smiled at him, then took her baton in both hands and slammed the end into the ground to anchor herself as she took to the sky. Mister Bug followed, grim faced and determined. Anxiety bubbled in his gut as they approached the Pont de l’Alma bridge, only to find a group of panicked people running away, weaving between hastily parked cars and various stone statues of those who were less lucky.

“You two again?” Princess Justice asked with a sigh.

“Yes,” Nekomata confirmed, then drew closer to Mister Bug’s side to whisper, “The bag is too small a target for me to hit while she’s moving. But perhaps if I destroy her crown, she will be unable to perform her judgments and we can strike properly.”

“Good idea.”

“Cataclysm!” she cried, clawed hand crackling with Plagg’s destructive essence. 

_Trust her_ , Mister Bug thought, fighting every muscle in his body from pouncing on his partner and stopping the threat she possessed to his lady. _She would never hurt Marinette and you know that_.

In a lucky shot, he managed to get Princess Justice wrapped in his yo-yo. He yanked hard to bring her to her knees while Nekomata charged forward, aiming for her crown. The akuma sprung back to her feet and spun in the opposite direction, strong enough to unwind herself just enough to dodge. Nekomata let out a growl, unable to change her course last minute to follow suit. She hit a streetlight with a clang, her Cataclysm dissolving the metal fixture in seconds. Mister Bug groaned.

“Why do you continue to oppose me?” Princess Justice demanded hotly, using his momentary distraction to free herself entirely. “I have not targeted your Miraculous; all I am doing is serving justice to those who deserve it. Do you not fight for justice yourselves?” She gestured sharply at two nearby statues. “Take them, for example. He is cheating on his girlfriend and she is embezzling money from her company. They need to face consequences for what they are doing!”

Frustrated, Nekomata exhaled sharply, eyes narrowing. “This is _not_ justice, Marinette, this is a witch-hunt. Do you seriously plan to go after every single unjust person in all of Paris acting as the sole judge and executioner? How is that right?” she asked, glaring. “And when will it end?”

This gave Princess Justice pause. “An interesting point. You may be right,” she said thoughtfully. “Even those with clean hearts do nothing to help me in my mission, making them complicit and, in essence, no better than the rest. Indeed, this entire city is beyond saving. I should cast my judgment on a larger scale, once and for all.” 

Princess Justice nodded decisively. She began to drift away from the bridge, hovering over the waters of the Seine before rising high; up and up and up, until her form was reduced to an eerie silhouette nearly eclipsed by the glare of the afternoon sun. The air around her began to shimmer as she accumulated a cloud of magic dust around her. 

“Shit,” Mister Bug spat, pacing along the bridge. There was no easy way to get to her now. Even if they did reach her up there without turning to stone, there would be very little time to grab the akumatized object and break it, since neither of them would be able to stay airborne for very long.

There was no other choice. 

“Lucky charm!” he cried. He wasn’t sure exactly what he’d been hoping for, especially after watching the various instruments that Ladybug had gotten over the years, but a megaphone was definitely not even on his top ten list. He squinted and whirled around to consider the scene around him, but the only two things that lit up were the polka-dotted megaphone and Princess Justice’s distant form. That was it?

“I already tried talking to her!” he said, frustrated beyond belief, not even sure who he was talking to in that moment. Tikki, perhaps. “It didn’t work before, why would it work now?!”

 _Just give it a try, chaton_ , Marinette’s voice reasoned. _Just because it didn’t work last time doesn’t mean I wasn’t affected. Listen to Tikki, she won’t lead you astray._

 _I hate that I’m doing this without you_ , Adrien thought, breathing deeply. Nekomata moved to his side and gave his shoulder a stiff pat in comfort. Collecting himself, Mister Bug gave her a smile in thanks and hopped up onto the bridge’s railing. He put the megaphone to his lips, hesitated, then began.

“Princess Justice — no — Marinette. Please, this isn’t you. You’re in pain and you’re angry and I-I can’t begin to imagine what you’re going through. But you have so many people who love you,” Mister Bug faltered, blinking back more tears. “Including me and Nekomata. Your friends and family. Maybe some of us have failed you recently but I promise it was not for lack of caring. Let us make it up to you.” The sky-high figure of the akuma dropped her arms; it was hard to see, but he thought perhaps she was starting to soften. 

With renewed determination, he continued, “Justice is all well and good, but you’re forgetting the most important part behind justice — the ability to move on and grow, learning from your mistakes to become a better person. Justice itself is cold; it’s distant and sometimes merciless. It’s a concept without mercy or remorse. And that’s how I know ‘Princess Justice’ isn’t who you really are. Because you, Marinette, you are _so warm_. So warm and caring and kind. You _always_ believe in the best of people! You believe in redemption and in second chances. Don’t you remember when you gave me one?

“Please, Marinette.” He forced himself to swallow around his heart in his throat. “Please come back to us.” 

_Please come back to me._

Visibly moved, Nekomata reached for the megaphone. Mister Bug relinquished it, watching in awe as Kagami bled through the black mask, the most emotional he had ever seen her. “Marinette,” she called into the megaphone. “Return to yourself!”

Princess Justice faltered in the sky then slowly began to descend. As she grew closer, Mister Bug could see the conflicted expression on her face, overlaid by the outline of a sickening purple butterfly, and his heart tripped into overtime. It was working! She was still high up, but in just a few more minutes, he would be close enough to hold her.

“Marinette!” he screamed in encouragement. Nekomata echoed him. “ _You can do it, Marinette!_ ”

At his final call, Princess Justice’s face cleared and he thought he could almost see her start to smile. In an instant, the butterfly outline flickered and flared, then it disappeared entirely. A dark speck — the akuma — flew out of Princess Justice’s side pouch, its frantic wings batting hard to escape. 

Mister Bug extended his yo-yo as far as he could, arm aching from the might of his throw. The dark speck disappeared from view and when his yo-yo returned, he hurriedly dragged his finger over the compact to release the purified butterfly. His heart raced as he watched Marinette return to herself, mid-air. It was over.

But then she began to fall.

He braced his legs against the bridge railing, ready to launch himself forward to catch her, break her fall, _anything._

“She’s too far out!” Nekomata hissed, arms slipping around his waist to anchor him in place. “You’re not going to reach her. Cast the cure!”

“Miraculous Mister Bug!” Mister Bug screamed, nearly stumbling over his words. Ladybugs exploded into the sky, a glittering trail of magic that scrubbed the city of Paris clean from Hawkmoth’s influence. The people on the bridge that had fallen to Princess Justice’s punishment came back to life in a wash of red, blinking in befuddlement as they regained their faculties. 

But Mister Bug only had eyes for one person. Marinette was still falling; all the cure had done was cost him precious seconds. Elbowing out of Nekomata’s hold, he nearly fell off the railing before he rebalanced himself. No, he wasn’t going to catch her, but he would be damned if he let her stay in the river for a moment longer than necessary. He drew in a deep breath then dove into the depths of the Seine, fully submerged before she even hit the surface. 

The seconds it took to reach her were agonizing; everything felt prolonged and otherworldly as he fought against water and current. Multiple eternities passed between each stroke of his arms, every kick of his legs, before he found her. His entire chest burned — though whether from a lack of oxygen or his screaming heart, he wasn’t entirely sure — as he dragged them both up to the surface. To his relief, Marinette immediately sputtered in his hold, coughing and spitting out the water she’d taken in.

“Mister Bug! Grab hold!” Nekomata called.

Mister Bug adjusted his left arm around Marinette’s torso while his other arm reached up out of the water to grab the staff that Nekomata had extended their way. They were slowly but steadily hauled back onto the bridge.

“Somebody call for an ambulance!” he yelled; it was completely unnecessary as one of the police officers on the scene was already on her radio, requesting medical support. He clutched her now limp body to his in a desperate grip, tucking her head underneath his chin, fingers growing numb from how tightly he held her. 

“Is she okay?” Nekomata asked, kneeling down to peer at Marinette’s pale face, her shallowly but consistently moving chest. “She’s breathing, yes?”

“Y-yes,” he said, trying to remember to do the same. “I think she just passed out.” There was a persistent ringing in his ears that wouldn’t go away. A ringing sound, yes, how annoying — but it distantly reminded him of some other sound. Something he was expecting, something that should be there?

 _Beep_.

Mister Bug’s head snapped up.

“Ah, it started beeping while you were in the water,” Nekomata explained in response to his intense stare, flashing the Black Cat Miraculous with its two remaining toe prints. “We will need to find cover in the next two minutes or so for me to detransform and return the ring.”

“I —” Mister Bug frowned, knowing she was right but unable to imagine letting go of Marinette after having just gotten her back. He knew it was an important part of the whole superhero gig, he remembered how seriously Ladybug took the retrieval of any loaned Miraculous at the end of a battle, but surely this counted as an exception, a serious extenuating circumstance if nothing else —

 _I name Chat Noir the new guardian_.

Her words rested like the heaviest collar around his neck, an immovable burden of responsibility he couldn’t take off or ignore. The weight of the role she had given him earlier this afternoon was finally starting to sink in. Every molecule in his body screamed in protest as he forced his arms to pull back, to lay her gently on the pavement, eyes closed but otherwise okay, she was okay, she was _okay_. He just had to keep reminding himself of that.

_Beep._

“Let’s go,” he said hoarsely to Nekomata, gesturing for her to follow him to a nearby alleyway. Not one to waste time, Kagami immediately recited the detransformation phrase as soon as they touched down. Plagg spun out of the ring; Mister Bug knew he had to be hungry but the kwami remained uncharacteristically silent as he floated back over to his wielder. 

“Thank you,” he said to Kagami earnestly. “I honestly couldn’t have pulled through without your help today.”

She smiled thinly. “You are welcome. Though,” her smile trembled, “I think you would have figured out a way even if I had not been there. I have never seen you so impassioned before.”

Not knowing how to respond to her, Mister Bug gave her a wry grin. “I’m not so sure about that. Still, thank you anyway. I’m so glad I didn’t have to do this alone.” He offered her a gloved hand. “Do you need a ride somewhere? I’d be happy to give you a lift.”

“No, I will be fine on my own,” Kagami said, pulling out her cell phone. “I will call the family driver. They will not question my request for pick-up once I explain that I escaped from the akuma at Françoise Dupont.”

“Get home safely,” he replied warmly. She nodded once, then walked out of the alley, promptly swallowed up by the other pedestrians passing by on the sidewalk. 

“Adrien,” Plagg began to say thoughtfully but Adrien waved him off. He already knew what he was thinking, the thought had struck him too, but it could wait. It could all wait.

Mister Bug took to the rooftops again, just in time to be able to catch sight of the ambulance leaving the bridge. He readied his yo-yo and moved to follow it.

Not once did his earrings make a sound. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this installment and that it was worth the wait -- see you guys next chapter!
> 
> Big shout-out to Scriviner at the Miraculous Fanworks discord server, who helped me name Nekomata <3 Thank you!!

**Author's Note:**

> Are you interested in joining a discord server with other Miraculous Ladybug fans, where writers, readers, and artists can all gather to share their works, discuss content, and generally support each other? Click below (I promise, it's fun, we are all very friendly):  
>   
> [Come say hi!](https://discord.gg/mlfanworks)  
>   
> Thank you very much for tuning in, I hope you enjoy the story!


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